


Shan

by crqstalite



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Darth Occlus - Freeform, F/M, Lexulle Kallig, Malcom Ngani Kallig, Unplanned Pregnancy, tags to be added as story progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:15:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 26,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23207590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crqstalite/pseuds/crqstalite
Summary: He's perfect, from the moment he's born. Lexulle Kallig's son would never know his father, but she would always be here for him. He is the reason she fights, he is the reason she protects, he is the reason that she is who she is.A mother's story as she fights for the small family she's built, and a Sith's story as she defends her home.
Relationships: Andronikos Revel/Female Sith Inquisitor, Theron Shan/Female Sith Inquisitor
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





	1. Overture

Among the fires, the crashing rubble and whatnot around her, time stops. She realizes she's probably staring down death. It's not unusual, she'd done it before and come out of it stronger. Cults that she oversaw called her immortal for a reason, after all.

She can still grasp onto what she has during it all. Onto her spiraling sanity as chaos reigns in the ship, screams of troopers Republic and Imperial falling around her. Her hair is pasted to her forehead with sweat as the world spins, gripping her lightsaber and throwing a droid backwards into a wall. They fall apart with ease, the crunching of the durasteel comforting during these trying times.

How had she gotten here?

Well, that question was answered easily enough, she deadpans in her thoughts, helpful questions only. A shot from behind surprises her, as she just barely deflects it and sends an arc of lightning right back at it. The droid is electrocuted and quivers before her as she stabs it through with her doublesaber. Staring out a viewport once that's dealt with, she wonders where in blazes her personal ship is. No one has answered for ages and she's terrified for their fate.

Given a moment to think as the onslaught by the droids pauses, that's what she does.

-

Lexulle Kallig can remember the first time she met Theron Shan rather clearly. She had still been damp with salty ocean water from Manaan's endless sea (her weave was entirely ruined, and she'd just gotten it done days earlier on Dromound Kaas), suspicious of his intentions but willing to compromise with her newfound ally (it was one of the first times he'd saved her), Lana Beniko and not throw a hissy fit over nothing. He'd had a chiseled jaw, stubble, a strong form. He'd been nothing more than a liability at first, for she didn't trust anyone who fought for the Republic and tore down Korriban brick by brick, but no one would ever say that she had the best taste in men. She couldn't afford to keep her standards high, not like she was anyone but Darth Occlus. She thought about him for a while during the months they were undercover on Rishi, but nothing that ever bothered her. Nothing that ever kept her up at night. The flirty lines that she'd dropped had shocked him, yes. That was always the look she was looking for, the one that filled her with satisfaction. His force presence had been locked off to her for very long time, but his hazel eyes had always said otherwise. He piqued her curiosity, and with his actions during that time, it was safe to say she'd done the same to him.

There were quite a few flings during that era that she could name and place a face to. Plenty more that even after some thought, she still couldn't remember. Not that many could say they'd been with Darth Occlus, but the man or woman in question could always remember it with pleasure.

She didn't keep in contact. Lexulle didn't keep ties, those were dangerous to have as a Sith. You never knew who wanted you for your body, or who wanted you because they were a spy for one of her enemies. The less people who knew where to find her, or what drew her in to someone, the better.

Lexulle seemed to gather quite a few enemies within her time on the Council. People either loved her, or hated her for loving her. The love letters were sweet and typically were genuine, the threats made her laugh.

It was such fun to watch them struggle with these ideas. Call it wrong or stupid, but she wouldn't care. Lexulle never cared for rules or social norms, she was never one for them to begin with. It wasn't like she had anyone waiting for her at home, and with the commitment debacle with Andronikos, she didn't need any reminder of her failures. Rumors be damned, Lexulle was a siren and people would always listen to her songs.

Then Rishi came.

If only she knew the trouble she'd get into before landing, she would've ignored the ominous premonition Ashara had and left to get into surely more trouble.

It was much too hot a planet, and she'd been forced to find someone to braid up her hair before it got too frizzy (they'd charged much more than it was worth, but if she could pay a thousand credits to still have hair when she left, well it was priceless) There were plenty of fascinating people on Rishi, some worth a night in the cantina with, others that reminded her why boundaries were a thing. Still, it was interesting discovering Lana had thrown her on a wild goose chase for her and Theron. Still then, he was just Lana's ally to her. But, Lexulle was also a merciless tease, and watching a man squirm was a little fun, if not also entertaining to the highest degree. Andronikos may not have approved of playing games with the man's heart and even warned against it, but she didn't care anymore. Nik had been her ex at one point, yes, but she didn't heed his words. They were friends, yes, but he couldn't tell her what to do.

 _She_ knew her heart best, right? What did he ever know about wanting to cause a little chaos with people? All was fair in love and war.

Then had come the tight leathris pants and skimpy top that was probably better for bathing than running around fighting Revanites in. Given it had also been much too hot for her usual wear, but the eye candy she surely became, that was worth it. Oh how things became interesting after that. Who could resist, really? Andronikos couldn't, not in the beginning. Plenty of people couldn't, as frustrated as they were about this admittance. And as it quickly was made apparent just as she was getting ready to leave for the jungle moon, neither could Theron Shan.

The genuine panic that had filled her when she'd heard he'd been taken was unwarranted, really. Andronikos had left plenty of times before, she left people every damn day. Why did it actually hurt this time around, knowing someone else had him and was threatening his life? They'd gotten him back, yes, and the relief was sweet as it washed over her body. Battered and bruised, maybe, but still alive.

She'd given the Revanites a way to remember her, yes. By massacring what was left of their blasted cult.

The way he tasted of sweat and spice, and oh stars everything nice left her wanting more. Had they not been on such a tight schedule, she would've spent a few days more on Rishi with him, taken him right then and there in the safehouse. The kisses they shared during their Yavin excursion made her warm all over. Lexulle always wanted more, always craved for things she couldn't or shouldn't have (and Theron classified as both of these), but for some reason she wasn't satisfied with just annoying him. Couldn't ever find a reason why their little meetings should stop, why she'd get hurt in the long run.

Lexulle never got hurt in the long run. Everyone else wanted her, not the other way around. Absolutely never.

Something was off about this though. By now, she would've switched gears to Lana (she was a pretty Sith, blonde with lips just so _kissable._ she was beauty, she was grace and she could probably be the end to the entire sith race if that's what she wanted), but something about him was just so alluring she decided she wasn't ready to let go just yet. She could play her games a little bit longer, especially with someone so handsome. Theron was simply someone she enjoyed, physically that was. He was smart, calculating, and just awkward enough to make her smile a little more than necessary. It didn't make it any worse that he was rather strong as well, which was clear from his figure to begin with, but running hands wherever she could get the made her realize what sort of a catch he was. Forget that he was five years older than her, she was content with making him her's for as long as she could.

And his jacket looked so nice on a floor. His shuttle's specifically, but all the same.

The way he ran his fingers through her hair, careful not to get them caught in knots and yank on it, but just rough enough to make it pleasurable. How rough and husky his voice could get, how delicate his touch was just about everywhere made the chase worthwhile. The nights they spent away from the others of the coalition that she doubted she'd forget about anytime soon. Lexulle made a note that she'd have to acquire a jacket like Theron's, for no reason other that she liked the way it looked. It wouldn't make much a difference, as it wouldn't be his, but impulse purchases weren't above her.

Then came all these things about caring about her, about how he didn't want her to die even if he never saw her in person again, on the same side again. How he was so very sorry that he wouldn't ever see her again. When had she ever said anything to make him think this was anymore than what she'd made it? It set a fire in her that burned at her skin, burned at her heart, burned away at her. Made her regret what she'd been doing, leading him on when he was just a fling. She couldn't bear to tell him she didn't care in that way, not with the way he looked at her. It was so easy with everyone else because she could simply hop back on the Defiance and leave the star system with them still whispering her name under their breath. Sleazy people, people out for money instead of themselves, people who wouldn't remember her in the morning.

It had taken her this long for her to realize that Theron wasn't like everyone else. He'd begun to care.

She was afraid that unlike Andronikos, he wouldn't be nearly as forgiving.

Afraid that they'd have the same conversation, and she'd make the same mistakes again. That instead of being remembered pleasantly, the memory of Theron Shan would eat at her for years. Lexulle made a habit of not having regrets, and an SIS agent, especially one that she'd had so much fun toying with, she was praying would not be one of them.

Lexulle found out she was afraid of a lot of things as she patched up after their fight with Revan. She could fight an ancient evil, watch as another rose because of it and brush it off like it was a mid-afternoon training session. Lexulle could have ghosts in her head, face down death because of her pursuit of power and accept that it was just happening. These things were all normal, all things she could do with a lightsaber or a flick of her wrist. These things could all be fixed with a bacta patch or another dark ritual. But as soon as someone wanted to stick around for longer than a night, that was when the anxiety began roiling off her in waves. Ate her up. Drowned her in feelings that she didn't want to have.

Made her want to run. Run far, run fast. Just anywhere away from whatever was causing it. Most problems she could do that to, Theron included. Or so she'd assumed so very foolishly.

She and Andronikos weren't that different in that regard. He'd disappeared for a week after his marriage proposal, which had been one of the toughest weeks in her entire life to date. Knowing she'd offended him, knowing she'd disappointed him. Lexulle knew he deserved more than someone more than a decade younger than him, knew he deserved better than someone who only knew how to run from her problems.

Lexulle had made the mistake of guessing that because he was so much older than her, that he'd given up on love. She always figured older spacers weren't looking for marriage, instead someone to just be on again off again partners with. That's what she thought they were, they hadn't ever been mutually exclusive to each other either. Neither her or Andronikos ever made that boundary entirely clear, and now she was paying for it.

That wasn't Nik. He'd begun to care about her at some point, with how she'd disregarded him entirely she couldn't even name a specific planet that she'd noticed the change in behavior. And then she'd gone and hurt him because of how stupid she'd been. How awkwardly she'd stood there, his hands in her's, the world spinning around her as the word 'marriage' was uttered. He'd looked so happy, so absolutely ecstatic that she couldn't do anything, say anything in response. Lexulle could only imagine how guilty he'd felt in that moment, scaring her in such a way. Her eyes had gone wide, and she'd dropped her hands entirely, barely able to choke out a 'no' as she hung her head.

He'd left in the middle of the night. The only person who knew was gone was Khem, and even so he didn't try to stop him. They must have spoken that night, because Khem was much less informative than he should've been. Not a clue on where he was, what he was doing. Not even a note was left anywhere on the ship. Lexulle tried not to make it obvious, she went about her daily tasks until she had to ground them on Dromound Kaas for a period of time to get her mind back in order, prepared for the fact that he might not come back that time.

He'd come back later that week while they were docked on Vaiken, all himself and joking around. When she eventually had been able to apologize for her behavior, he'd chuckled, responding only that he was a tad shocked but not offended by her rejection. That he'd always be there for her anyways, in whatever way she needed him. She knew hurt in anyone's eyes when she saw it, and the dark eyes of Andronikos Revel screamed that it wasn't the truth. His presence said he was deeply hurt, and as much as she desperately wanted to talk to him about it, wanted to say she was sorry, even take back her decline of his proposal, she couldn't find the strength to. Not in the end.

They rarely if ever brought up the topic if not to jester each other about it. That was the way they'd comfortably been for months, leading up to their dealings with Arkous and Lana. Always something on the tip of their tongues, lingering touches that were reminiscent of something that should have been.

The night that they were due to leave Yavin was...quiet. Too quiet.

Softer than usual, sensual. They took their time that night, or more like Theron did. He asked questions about the scars littering her body, which she gave genuine answers to. It made her more nervous than it had any audacity to be, the slower pace leaving her confused. The conversations that they had were probably meant to be more meaningful than she'd seen them as, than how'd she responded to them. She'd congratulated Theron on his return to the SIS, he'd done the same to her for her acception to Darth Marr's side. There was a lot that went over her head that night, trying to wrap her head around not only the rise of the Emperor, but also the feelings that were bubbling up and over in her. They'd laid with each other for much longer than they should've, Andronikos had commed her at least ten times that night, wondering where she was. Theron wasn't sentimental, even after a few weeks of passionate love, she could tell that wasn't who he was. Like her, she was sure he had also been with other people than her and wasn't quick to admit that he loved her. He didn't, not then, but his actions lead her closer and closer to the assumption.

While he slept that night, the more and more her heart pounded. The more and more she couldn't handle the idea the rest of the galaxy saw as committal love.

The more and more she couldn't stay there.

Couldn't stay with _him_.

Trusting her physical being to someone was one thing, trusting her spirit, her entire life with someone else for the rest of forever? It made her feel as if she could be attacked at any moment, as if she was in danger all the time, and that she always had to be on her toes. The rush she got from every action she took was amazing, but making herself vulnerable to other people also gave her a rush, one that sent her careening over the metaphorical edge.

One she didn't want to ever feel again, to ever be taken advantage of again.

Theron was good, she knew that much. Why he'd taken so much interest in Darth Occlus of all people, as morally okay she could be, Lexulle would never know. She'd never know why he found her so interesting. She knew her own reasons for what she did, those were clear enough. But he'd never left himself open enough to her to learn. Theron had his own reservations about their current situation, then.

The middle of that night, she found herself slipping on clothes as she felt around for them, later she'd discovered that she'd ended up accidentally taking his shirt with her in the pile of clothes. Without even saying goodbye, the only indent of her ever even being on the shuttle was the wrinkle in the sheets and missing gauntlets that she'd left on his nightstand. Like a twisted fairy tale, she disappeared into the wee hours of the night, silent as Andronikos returned them to the Imperial Fleet.

He didn't press the matter, for he already had known where she'd been all that time. He was content enough to sit with her in the cantina, neither drinking much, just...existing among it all. It was a sort of out-of-body experience, one she didn't remember well. There weren't any tears, weren't any words. Only them, and the few people that still straggled around the Fleet at 06:00.

It was comforting, in the odd way they comforted each other. There weren't any snippy remarks that surely anyone else would give her about her infatuation with the SIS agent, there wasn't any snide comment made about his upbringing, nor was there any 'I told you so' to be said or heard. There was whiskey, there was a dark corner, and there was quiet music playing. Lexulle didn't do anything, all she could think about was static. As if someone had turned her head to another channel entirely.

For a long time, the shirt didn't leave her personal quarters.

It was too personal. So much of a risk. It felt like a crime when she'd eventually awoken the next day (she'd slept through the next twenty-four hours until about 03:00), and found his tan shirt with her things. She could only stare at it through her bleary eyes, thick with sleep and holding it in her hands as she looked at it in tired confusion. What spurred her on to wear it back to bed that same night, she wasn't sure.

It smelled like him. Reminded her of him as she dozed off into unconsciousness. Softer than expected, a tad larger than expected as well. It offered some solace in those months, doing menial tasks in the shirt, gently yanking at a hole she'd found at the bottom of it when she got nervous and was working in private.

Then came what the crew of the Defiance dubbed the hellish year. She was sick off and on for weeks at a time after she'd left Yavin, and Lexulle couldn't detect what in blazes was wrong with her for the longest time. It drove her nearly to madness, assuming there was something she'd come across in those caverns that was causing this. Certain scents would throw her for a loop, and there was a period of time that there wasn't anything she could eat and not gag from. It frustrated her, and it confused her crew to no end. Lexulle had never been picky, not with people and definitely not with food. To that day, Ashara would swear up and down nothing had changed with her force presence, nothing that she could figure at the very least. They stayed on Dromound Kaas for a period of time before they discovered that the smell of the rain was causing nausea as well. And that was just odd in itself, Lexulle loved the scent of the rain on her homeworld.

Lexulle had found out during a particularly bad day with her senses being off the wall.

She could remember that rather clearly. She'd been meditating in her personal quarters, trying to keep herself from losing what little she'd eaten earlier in the day. It was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore, but she was slipping more and more into the depths of the Force. Her senses had begun to numb as she was surrounded with the fluid ability, feeling more at ease than she had in days. She could feel everyone's presence around her, Talos' curious nature in the cargo bay, Khem assisting him boredly with stars knew what. Andronikos' and Ashara's in the cockpit, surely learning to fly the Defiance from the pirate. Xalek's in the crew quarter's, in a similar state to her's. Her own, dimmer than usual, but another that shone brighter. At first she tried to focus in, completely lost and where it was coming from. Convinced it was simply a small creature that has snuck aboard, but as she did, it was clear it was nothing unnatural or mystical.

It was emitting from _her_.

After a few moments of confusion, _that_ was when the entire galaxy shattered around her. At first, it logically didn't make sense. She was on medication, and it was essentially fool-proof. It had been for years. Andronikos was living proof. Lexulle was in denial for about ten minutes before she really was nearly tearing out her hair, curled up in a corner with bile burning her throat and tears streaming down her face in a silent sob. Maybe she was overreacting, it happened and would probably continue happening. She was an actor half the time with everyone else anyways, maybe her senses were wrong. Maybe there really was a force sensitive beetle somewhere nearby, and her exhaustion was catching up her. Everything was throwing them off right now, she wouldn't put it past them to run haywire when she needed them to just be accurate for once.

It added up when she thought it about it, scouring through the pack she'd brought with her to Yavin during her panicked ransack of her room, and finding that her medication had been empty for weeks through blurred eyes. Among everything going on, she must've made a note to refill it, but had forgotten at some point trying to fight Revan and his cult. It had never crossed her mind again that she hadn't done so, simply thrown away the other non essential things she needed to do before she left. Maybe there was a mental note bouncing around in there that she wasn't supposed to be with Theron. No wonder everything had felt so off lately, now that she had the answer everything began to fall into place.

She was pregnant, with Theron Shan's child. Those words were enough to cause a lot of emotions, if not also drive her crazy. Even just thinking about it, knowing what she'd caused yet again, scared her to no end.

And now there wasn't anything she could do about it.

That was the worst part of that year. Though Lexulle had tried to keep it a secret as long she could, she'd ended up crying to Andronikos in the middle of the night because of it, unable to keep a hand on her emotions properly any longer. Things hadn't gone flying like the last time she'd had a mental breakdown (her apartment was untouchable for months after Andronikos had proposed, she'd only recently cleaned when they'd gone to try and remedy her symptoms), but she was more scared than upset this time too. Scared because even though she figured this was the beginning of her legacy, something she'd been chasing since she'd been given a power base, it wasn't with someone who would watch them grow. She couldn't get in contact with Theron since Yavin, she couldn't just go looking for him either. Only the stars knew where he'd be, and they would never align for Lexulle Kallig. Andronikos was here for her, as was the rest of the Defiance's crew, but her child would never know their father. Her biggest fear was them turning out like her. Jaded, scared of commitment, and never knowing anyone but the people who claimed they cared about her. From what she'd heard from Theron before they'd split, his relationship with his mother at least had suffered dangerously for years before they were reunited on Rishi. Attempts were made, at the very least. They'd seemed civil the last time she'd been in contact.

Knowing she couldn't get in contact with him, made her wonder if it was fate. Wonder if it was destiny that was playing games with her, forcing her to make decisions even she didn't believe in.

It didn't make her feel any better, knowing she was carrying on a twisted legacy. Knowing that history was repeating itself only a generation later. She couldn't imagine how the Grand Master of the Jedi Order would react to knowing a Dark Council member was carrying on her name, if she ever found out.

Lexulle wrote letters that were never sent. Long, short. The longest one was her admittance to being with child. She'd desperately wanted to send it, but without any screen or pen name to address it to, the letters gained dust in her inbox.

Everyone else found out slowly after that, and it was general acception. Khem was the only one who was truly disgruntled by this development, and threatened to rip Theron limb from limb the next time he saw him, but the complaints were quickly silenced by the others. All she wore for months was the shirt she stole from Theron, and silently thanked whatever gods were out there for it being over sized so that she could continue to wear it as she slowly grew. She'd intended to stay on the fringes of Sith society, helping where she could until she began to show. There was a period of time where she wondered what she'd do when she did, as there were already enough rumors spiraling around about her. Mostly of her infidelity, but she digressed. Who her baby's father was, was not one she wanted floating around for her child to grow up in the shadow of. Lexulle had decided she would cross that bridge when she came to it, and if worst came to worst she'd see how Andronikos felt about being viewed as her child's father in society's eyes.

Ziost interrupted those plans.

It was only a month after she'd found out, so she wasn't concerned about Lana finding out while they were on planet (later she was curious if Lana had known from the beginning, considering her power). Against everyone's wishes (she was very quickly reminded why she and Andronikos would never work, not very well at least, he worried too much and she didn't worry enough according to the pirate) she went to go and assist the blonde Sith Lord. With all the adrenaline running through her veins, the two days she spent on the dying planet were relatively symptom free, which was a horrible form of bliss because she could feel them pulsating at the back of her nerves.

When she'd seen Theron again, beaten and bruised by his excursion through the planet, she couldn't even react. Everything came crashing through her, every single emotion of elation, frustration, depression, regret, excitement, and confusion hit her like a train. Lexulle had been so convinced that she'd never see the SIS agent again that she'd literally crashed. She'd stared like a fool until Andronikos gently shook her out of her stupor, and even then she couldn't acknowledge him properly. With everything going on, she highly doubted even he found anything off about her, especially after nearly dying earlier in those two days. She wouldn't have, there were more things to worry about other than that she was just more tired than usual. Lexulle put her game face on, pretending nothing was wrong and being the same way she was on Yavin. He didn't react as quickly, though he noted her actions with visible understanding. The mission went on without a hitch (well, multiple hitches that she had no hand in), and she couldn't even get a moment alone with him before the planet lost all the life on it. It'd died right before her eyes, a planet she'd risked her and her unborn child's life for, and there was all of their work going to dust. There was crying from people around her, frustrated yelling, and all she could focus on was the viewport, watching as the various colors of the planet were overtaken by a solemn grey. How small she felt, how vulnerable she felt, how powerless she felt. Vitiate was rising again, and there was nothing she could do about it.

There was so much that she could do nothing about. So much that she could grasp, but couldn't hold onto.

Nothing was concrete in her life anymore, and that scared her much more than the Emperor's ability to destroy a planet's life just like _that_. Knowing that a galactic menace was on the rise, that her child would be born into all of this.

Knowing that history was repeating itself again. This time through her. Her mother had known that things were taking a turn for the worse. The illegitimate daughter of a Commander and his slave, she had been raised in a time of galactic upheaval. Never having a home, never having real parents at all. War was no place to have a child, to bring one into the galaxy. Yet, she existed.

And now, so did her own baby.

She was quiet for a long time. Lexulle couldn't think straight, considered every option that she had. Then she left the space station with her crew in tow, vowing to stop thinking like a lovesick teenager, buckle down and prepare for what came next. This was just one of probably many examples of when she'd have to grow up and deal with what happened. Lexulle couldn't raise herself and a baby, even if she was twenty two. This was her own fault, and now she had to deal with the consequences.

Though it was difficult, she kept a handle on what she could, still honing her lightsaber technique as her baby grew underneath her fingertips. Lexulle can't remember exactly when Ashara had recommended her to stop until her pregnancy was over, or when Andronikos had much more forcefully said so. Giving up her proficiency in lightsabers was definitely an inconvenience she hadn't expected to face, but later she figured they were only helping in the ways they knew how to.

Suddenly, it all died down. No more odd sightings of the Emperor running wild like a child in a sweet shop anywhere. The occasional Empire-Republic skirmish on neutral planets that she was denied participation in. Not a single sound of oddity, no quiet whispers of new powers rising anywhere. The galaxy went quiet for the rest of her pregnancy. It was too quiet, too domestic for her to be comfortable. It made her skittish, knowing that no one was _doing_ anything. Nothing that would get her heart racing, nothing she had to stay up poring over. Any basic missions that were undertook by her crew, she oversaw from the Defiance's pilot chair.

As relaxed as she was supposed to be, as figuratively excited as she was supposed to be, it was the most stressful time of her life.

She stayed on the Defiance for as long as she could before it simply wasn't safe for her to be flying all over the galaxy anymore, considering how close she was to being due. It had become her home, and she simply wasn't ready to leave by the time she did have to. She understood the concern her crew had, but she'd been sidelined enough. Not seeing her ship for the next few weeks was absolute torture. The Defiance had all her memories, not the apartment Zash had bought for her during her apprenticeship.

Everyone came with her, at the very least. There was no argument to the request. She wouldn't be alone on the planet, she'd have her family around her. The apartment was smaller than she'd remember, now full of life instead of desolate with dark side energy emitting from it alone. There was a lot of rearranging, getting used new things and new places. Ashara and Xalek had been to Dromound Kaas, but now here permanently (or at least as permanently as they were), they'd taken a bit to adjust. The force wasn't suffocating to either apprentice as she'd assume it would be, and Ashara found the Sanctum rather interesting. The two took up looking over what she was missing while she was away, which served as a distraction for Lexulle. Watching as they grew in power, in intelligence, made her proud. She had yet to screw them up, at the very least.

Writing letters brought some calm to the progressing situation. They weren't all pleasant, sometimes she asked the inbox why he couldn't be here with her on particularly bad days, why he had to go up and be so damn alluring all the time. Other times, they were good, happy updates about her progression, about what color the crew helped her paint the nursery. Sometimes they were about nothing, about normal, everyday things that went on around the home. They made her feel better at least, looking at her own writing and his name in the empty subject box. Some days it made her feel worse, made her feel more alone in the galaxy. Still, they were a good distraction from her own anxiety, and Ziost.

Ziost would hang over her head for years, and she could still remember hearing the screams of people trapped as she ran by. The alarms that blared, the deathly empty eyes of the possessed as she was forced to strike them down. Being force choked by a Sixth Line Jedi until Andronikos was able to distract them enough so she could be let go.

Lexulle could remember the day Malcom Ngani Kallig was born like it was yesterday. She'd like to say she was able to stay calm the entire time, it was a bit of a lie. (that was saying a lot, she'd nearly died a few times from worse injuries) But, it was also the best day of her life. Andronikos had been by her side the entire time, swearing up and down he was just fine until he relented and let Ashara heal his hand after they'd heard the first cries of her son. She'd been too distracted to notice his predicament when the nurse had put him on her chest for the first time, a red, screaming baby boy, but relatively healthy all the same. She'd hesitated to touch him at first, he'd seemed so delicate, like if she did touch him, he'd shatter to pieces before her eyes. Her hair was slick with sweat against her forehead, and everything was a little too loud for her tastes. She was much too hot, and her vision was swimming in the bright lights of the medbay, pain ebbing at the edges of her consciousness.

But she couldn't notice. For a time, it was just her and her son. The entire world could've lit ablaze, and it still wouldn't have been as important as her child.

He had Theron's eyes, she noted when she saw them for the first time. Speckled hazel with bits of her own gold eyes if you looked right in the light, and his skin tone closer to his father's than her's. What little hair he did have alluded to him having a mix of her coiled hair and Theron's. She was mesmerized as he began to calm down, the nurse taking him for just a moment to clean him up and run whatever tests she needed to. Having him in her arms, after all the trouble he'd caused her, made her heart ache in a way it shouldn't have. She loved him, the first person she could say that to was her own son. And it was well deserved, how he looked up at her, never really a focus in his eyes. Maybe he still knew he was looking at her, knew who she was.

There wasn't a single dry eye in the room that day.

Malcom wasn't force sensitive. That much was clear within days of his birth. Sure, there was always the idea that he'd develop it later in life, but she stopped hoping after his first birthday. It was a question that had been on her mind for a while, but with how busy things had gotten, it hadn't mattered. A part of her wishes that he was, wishes that she could make him feel the way she did, to calm him when a bottle wouldn't. Bring them closer together even. It sounded selfish, but she thought she could share this with him. A disappointment, but not one that she ever dwelled on or blamed him for. She was grateful that he was even alive to share her apartment bedroom with her. Things could've been much worse, but they weren't.

He was here.

_And Theron wasn't._

As much as she tried to stop caring, and she did for the longest time, every time she looked into her son's eyes, his face, all she saw was the SIS agent. All she could see was his father, and how she'd failed to say the things she'd wanted to. How much she genuinely appreciated his company, how she wanted to thank him for at least being civil with the Imperials. How she'd desperately wanted him by her side this entire time.

No one called her Lexi but Andronikos up until that first night they spent together in the sticky heat of Rishi that they'd created together. Somehow, the nickname was more endearing than it was annoying these days.

She hearing missed it from him. Did he know just how much she adored the way he said it? Did he know the hole he'd left in her life?

Lexulle didn't have any love for Theron. Nothing that was real at least. Basing how her heart felt after only a few weeks of being around him, worse only a few weeks of making passionate love away from prying eyes, it meant nothing. She knew less about him than she'd thought. She knew how old he was, she could pick him out for a crowd, she knew he was a talented slicer. She could recount their better nights together, and how it had made her feel. After a botched excursion out to the jungles that she's sure was supposed to be romantic, she'd learned to fix his cybernetics with his gentle voice guiding her through the procedure. But after that, she drew at a lot of blanks at the more important things. Did he even know his father very well? What was he like, outside of work and his less committed relationships? What made him want to join the SIS, make him want to do what he did? Yes she'd seen him upset, worse she'd seen his eyes when he felt betrayed. She'd seen him smile, seen him laugh, seen him with his eyes so lidded she wasn't sure he could see.

She didn't even know his birthday.

Did he share his birthday with Lexulle or Malcom now?

_Did he miss her?_

A question she figured would never be answered.

They'd come upon his name not by sheer luck. No, Lexulle wasn't that stupid. Originally she'd wanted to distance him as much as she could from Theron, settling on the name Rohtyr for a while. It was her grandfather's given name, given by a slaver yes but it still held a place in her heart as important. Still, it sat with her, it felt wrong to not at least give him something related to him. She came upon the name late one night, rubbing circles into her bump and watching as the rain fell outside her window. It was during that same talk that she'd zoned out that he'd admitted to knowing who his father was, and then and there she found his name. Naming him Theron outright would've been too much for her to handle emotionally, and attempting to legally call him Shan would probably get the council gossips talking again, and a lot of questions asked.

When she did return to the Council, the newest addition to the Kallig line was assumed to be the son of a deceased Sith Lord. It was believed, in fact, it even managed to earn her quite a bit of sympathy from people. Some were suspicious, but it was easy enough to brush them off. Lexulle ignored those, but began to make a habit of staying away from cantinas after the birth of her son.

Things went back to business as usual, or at least as business as usual as a crew of an ex-Jedi, a Kaleesh Sith, an Imperial Reclamation Officer, a Dashade, his master, a pirate and a baby could. Lexulle only left Dromound Kaas a few times within the first few months, but still brought Malcom with her, where she could keep him safe. For three years, she took the new responsibilities in stride, or at least attempted to. The apartment became a home, as she watched Malcom grow and learn of his new surroundings. He was nearly a carbon copy of Theron, though adopted a curious outlook on life. A slippery child, there were plenty of times that various objects went missing and were found in the small hands of Malcom Kallig over the course of those years. The most precious moments, she found, were when he was still learning his pronounciations. He'd given up weeks beforehand at trying Andronikos' name (Ashara was referred to as simply Shara, even better was his infatuation with calling Khem 'Khemmie' for a period of time), before asking for something as Nik. The way the pirate melted figuratively, she saw as endearing and rather adorable.

He would deny that any day of the week, claiming he didn't know what she was talking about. Whether he was beginning to care for the boy was seen in time though, so she let it slide. There was a time when he'd have the boy with him while he was playing sabaac with Talos or Ashara, or strapped to his back while he was tinkering with the Defiance.

The first time she'd been called 'mum' was the day she cried for one of the first times in her life. Lexulle was not an emotional person, so as the tears built up in her eyes, was an entirely new feeling that she adored. He had still been figuring out the word himself (he was babbling a lot of time, carrying on nonsense conversations with anyone he could get to listen), though upon seeing her smile and urging for him to say it again elicited only happy giggles. She'd felt warm, a way that she'd never felt before.

Sometimes she found herself wondering how things would've been if she still had Theron by her side, experiencing all these things with him. How he would react even knowing he had a son to begin with? Where would she be? Coruscant? Somewhere else he lived? How often would he even be around, working odd jobs for the SIS, as things surely went. Where would her crew go, if she weren't flying the Defiance any longer? There were rules and regulations in place, especially since it was under her name and officers were hard to convince on these things. Would she be leaving a family for one she was sure many would disapprove of.

She was Sith. He was an SIS agent. Lexulle brushes the thought from her mind, it was too fantastical to deal with, letting her thoughts run wild in the middle of the night as she dozed off. She wasn't about to abandon the Empire, and chances were Theron wouldn't leave the Republic even if he was being threatened at blaster point. Even on the best of days, everything became too loud when he got involved in her thoughts. There was always the chance he wouldn't want anything to do with Lexulle or Malcom, in that regard.

Malcom asked a lot of questions that she wasn't ready to answer.

Thankfully (and she felt bad just thinking about how she'd distracted him from such a question that she'd asked for years), he had shorter attention span than she'd thought from how fast he learned. The father question came up a lot, but distracting him wasn't extremely hard to do. Maybe Theron's genetics were shining through, for he did love his datapads. It was too early to find whether he would be a mechanic with the things he took apart or a slicer with his adamant need for all things tech, but whatever made him happy made things a little bit easier to deal with. At least Nik was always there for her, in a way she couldn't describe as love, but mutual care. She couldn't say either of them were good with kids, they weren't, they struggled a lot in the early days, but they learned together.

That made things..nicer. She finds herself wondering what life would be like if she did settle down with Andronikos, if Malcom was actually his. They got along much better than she'd ever think a pirate and a three year old with a penchant for dismantling things ever would. Maybe she would't have so many regrets if Malcom was theirs. Maybe she wouldn't feel so incomplete anymore, like something was always missing no matter what she did.

He never wanted to be referred to as his father. Didn't want to be acknowledged that way, and she didn't blame him for it. It worked, Malcom had never uttered the word before either. Maybe it was a matter of fear, maybe he felt he was taking something from him.

Lexulle kept from bringing it up with the pirate in fear that they'd have another relationship-crashing talk on the bridge of the Defiance. What his position was on the matter or his reasoning, Lexulle respected it. If Andronikos had no desire to be a father, well she'd take parenting him alone eventually. As much as her crew was around, she knew one day Ashara and Xalek would no longer be her apprentices and would find their own places in the galaxy. Talos would get off to somewhere else (probably Yavin, he'd nearly thrown a glee-filled fit there), and she'd let Khem go if that's what he desired. Not that he was disgruntled with her, in fact he'd been rather kind lately, but no Dashade who'd lived for as long as he did would be happy with the same person for the rest of his existence.

As much as she wanted to hang onto that hope, Andronikos would want to settle down somewhere. Most likely not with her, and she accepted that in stride. Yet it always crossed her mind that one day she would be alone. Malcom would grow up, he'd become his own person and eventually take the Defiance with him.

Then what would she have left in the galaxy, nothing left to live for, surely.

Still, as much as she wanted to appreciate this all, her son, travelling the galaxy with the people who mattered most to her...there was always something off about just how smooth things were running for that long. People were getting quiet up top though, including Marr, and he usually kept her up to date with things, considering she was considered a Dark Council Elite by now. She felt as if she were missing something crucial. Yet no one could put a finger on what it was, or no one would tell her. Contacting Lana a few times when she wasn't busy, she found that she wasn't the only one with the premonitional feelings of dread. Intelligence wasn't providing much more than brief reports of ships going missing in wild space, and even so that meant basically nothing.

Ships always went missing in Wild Space. That was nothing new. Nothing could be trusted in the outer regions of their galaxy, stars knew if life was even out that far yet. Really, she wasn't ready to ask that question just yet. It took a long while before she decided to get involved in the investigation, figuring just a small amount of risk was exactly what she needed to remedy all these odd feelings.

Now, she was feeling guilty for even entertaining the idea.

-

**17 ATC. WILD SPACE. 13:00.**

Lexulle never forgets a thing. Andronikos has commented on it time and time again. And it's true, her memory spans for years at a time. Sometimes it's useful, remembering what makes someone tick when she needed something from them.

Other times, it was so unhelpful.

Today included, and today was out to get her, no matter how she spun it. It had started out okay, not nearly as much trouble seeing Malcom off that she'd thought she'd have (the poor boy nearly lost his mind when he'd heard that Lexulle was leaving -- for only a few hours at that) and actually making it here within two or so days. The discussion was going well too, no one from opposite factions had shot each other either. It seemed like it, at least. Darth Marr reminded her why she did still have alliances on the Council, he was a good leader and better strategist than she could ever be. It was a tad disappointing, no one had seen Vitiate in the years since Ziost. Even worse, the Force just felt...strained so far out in Wild Space. Not gone, but it felt like their was a knot in the hose, with only droplets dripping out of the faucet, and she knew something big was going down.

Then the ship was attacked. First by a probe that they hadn't been able to identify, then an entire fleet of ships arrived on the scene that no one could place knowledge on. She'd never seen models like these before, and even worse their forces were struggling to push them back. It was much too strong, and running now, with a whole star destroyer, was impossible. They were essentially dead in space, and the droids enroaching upon the crew were stronger than she'd encountered before. To try and get back to the Defiance was becoming more and more of a hazard, and she was considering an escape pod, no matter how long it took to clear the airspace.

Marr's ship shuddered again, hit from multiple directions as she stumbles, trying to right herself. What was this absolute onslaught? They were in Wild Space, she'd expect this from somewhere in the Core Worlds, maybe Hutt Space if anything.

At least these droids were easy enough to cut down. They fell clean in half too, exploding moments after she finished them off. Not that these soldiers of Marr's were any help, really. Hopefully, Dol didn't think too little of her after all of this, rejecting to help his soldier through the airlock. He knew the consequences of war, and she wouldn't always pay for those consequences either.

"--ever get my hands on...there! We're in some trouble here, Sith--droids shot through the airlock, and the docking clamps won't let us loose." Andronikos' voice crackles over her com. Stars, not this. Not so early in her return to work. Things would never be easy, that isn't what she was asking for, but two seconds of normal battles, like the ones that she was part of while she was under Zash, any mode of formality to her past would've been nice. But yes, it seemed that this what they were doing today. Her heart pounds in her ears, and not just from her run down here either. Malcom must be terrified, this was the first space battle he'd ever been in, and if the shots were this deafening here, then she could only imagine what sensory shock her son was going through.

Dragging a hand down her face, she sighs in disbelief though her voice shakes, "Hold on, Nik. I'm on my way back."

He doesn't respond, the connection cut. Too much interference, and she bites back the urge to scream into the literal void. Still, she curses the blasted Emperor for his hand in this. Not that she knew if he was the one behind this, but she could take her chances with her assumptions. Gripping her saber as her rage overtakes her, she fights through the next wave of these droids. The more and more that Malcom took over her thoughts, the more and more her surroundings blurred. All that mattered now was getting back to her son and getting him and her crew out of here. Screw the rest of the mission, finding out where Vitiate had gone. Lexulle wasn't just Darth Occlus anymore, she was 'mum' and Lexi and she would kill the man in death if she couldn't get back to them.

That, was not an exaggeration made lightly.

The last droid she comes across, she crushes it with more force than truly necessary before stomping on it with a force-fueled kick. It seemed as if it was supposed to be a stronger version of those that had come before it, but as the force rolled off her in waves, nothing was standing in her way before being crushed to bits. When she lifts her head, her first thought is the fires. It's stifling now that focuses on it, and she tries to keep the worst of it out of her face with bursts of the Force as she dashes down the hall. Slamming a hand on the release button to the airlock, the Defiance shoots off into space just through the viewport. She sighs a shaky breath of relief as she leans against the terminal, they aren't stuck to this sinking ship anymore.

"Hah! We're loose! Just got to pick one of the million some-odd ships out here to shoot at first." Andronikos' voice returns, and her heart rate picks up again. Racing to the airlock, another fire rages. Frustrated, it goes out as she focuses on pulling it away from the rubble that's at least another six feet taller than her. Peering around it, she tries to yank at it with the Force, her muscles straining against it. It creaks, easier to move because of the heat that's surely melting it, yet it remains in place with all her effort going to waste. She lets it go as it rattles around, before stabilizing again. She tries again, and again and again until her muscles are burning as much as the air around her is. Panting hard, she patches back into the com system.

"Nik, I'm stuck here." She starts, staring up at the rubble that keeps her trapped, "If you see an opening, take it. Someone has to make it back to the Empire."

"And leave you here to rot? Are you kidding me?" Static invades her ears before the connection grows clear again.

"Andronikos, that's not a request!" Lexulle tries to hold back from yelling, but she does anyway. Something comes loose from above her, and she just barely makes it out of the way as it crashes, flames spreading before her as just manages to raise her forearms to protect her face from the brunt of the flames. Quivering, she brushes her damp hair back as he groans, probably just as frustrated with the situation as she is before she quiets his tone, "Get everyone out of here, I'll catch up!"

"Lex, what about the kid?" He asks, and her heart stops for a moment, her thoughts spiraling, "Poor thing is shaking in Ashara's lap right now."

The picture is all too clear in her head, the auburn curls that she'd sworn she'd get cut hiding his green eyes with his face buried in Ashara's chest, trembling at the sounds that are even too much for her. Her son needed her, and she wasn't there for him. Tearing up at the thought, she's quiet as she thinks about what to do, her concentration waning on the fires that she holds at bay around her. Her baby was still in more danger out there than he was at home, if they got shot down because she asked for them to stick around and wait for her...

She's not sure what she'd do. Kill someone, probably. Kill everyone and anything she saw in the wreckage.

"Andronikos?" Lexulle asks, an idea formulating in her head. If Dol and Ralo managed to get out of here, then surely she could as well. She didn't know the layout of the ship well enough to bank on the escape pods as a copout though, and she didn't have the time to go searching.

"Yeah, Lex?" He asks, a pause before he answers again.

"Give the com to Malcom, I want to talk to him." She asks, before moving further away from the airlock, further away from the fires. She can nearly hear him queuing up his next argument or whatever he wants to say to her before she interjects instead, "Don't hesitate, just...please. Let me talk to my son."

He must've given up arguing with her at that point, because she can hear the sound of movement and whispering beneath the space battle raging around them, "Malcom?"

"Mum?" His tiny voice asks, and the tears begin anew. He should have no reason to be afraid now, yet here they are. With him wondering when she'd be back, presumably, "Mummy where are you?"

"Malcom, darling, I need you to be brave for me." She wipes away what she can with the sleeve of her armor set, still one ear out listening for any approaching droids as she calms her voice for him. If she panics him, then what good is she really doing? She has to put her own brave face on, keep him doing the same. If she knows he's safe, then she can fight twice as hard with his safety being one of her lesser concerns, "Can you do that for your mummy?"

He sniffles again, "Yes."

"Mum is going to be gone for a while, but I need you to listen to everyone. I know mum said she'd be back in a few hours but I may be longer." Just saying the words are getting to her more than they should, and she hears the telltale sound of duracrete against durasteel. More of those blasted droids on their way, "Mum needs you to stay as brave as you can for Andronikos and the others, you can do that, can't you?"

"Yes mum." He responds, quieter this time. Maybe she's successfully calmed him down to the best of her meager abilities. Cloaking herself, droids run by in rapid succession with blasters in their hands. The ship gets hit again, and she stumbles, falling to the ground and nearly tumbling into the rubble. Righting herself, she stands again and peers out into the hall before heading out to where she'd last seen Marr -- or at least somewhere less on fire, "When will you be back?" He asks, desperation in his young voice.

"I...I don't know, darling." She whispers, careful that she may be being watched. The Defiance shudders audibly, and Malcom shrieks in a way that makes her want to forget about the rest of the attack and rush to his side. It puts a hole in her heart nearly, and she has to focus. Keep him calm, keep herself from losing it, "When I do though, we can go to the park you liked near home, yes? We could even get the ice cream that you love, and we can spend the whole day together."

"O-okay." Without the com being nearly as close as she's sure it is, she wouldn't be able to hear her son anymore, "Mum, come back home. I'm scared. It's so loud and-", he cries.

"I know darling, I know. I'm just as scared, but we always do these things together, right?" She doesn't wait for his response as the ship nearly rolls, and she smacks into a viewport hard, "Malcom, I love you." She chokes out, ears ringing as her head pounds.

"I love you too, Mum." Static crackles again before Lexulle finally breaks, she runs and runs and runs. Anywhere is better than here, and her stealth is falling away as tears run down her face in rivers.

"Lex! We need to get out of here!" Andronikos' voice yells back over the com, panic setting in, "Did you find a pickup yet?"

"Nik. Go. Get my son out of here." She says sternly. Now, she isn't going to let them stay for her, and she will not continue to take no for an answer, "That is not an request! Hurry!"

"I-Fine. We're going, but do us and favor and don't die out here, huh?" He asks, and a gear shift later he sighs, maybe reconsidering his earlier agreement already, "Lex, if I don't see you in forty-eight hours I swear I'm coming back out here for you."

"Andronikos, please." She quiets to a whisper, begging him as she watches what she assumes is the Defiance pass by outside, blaster shots only just narrowly missing them, "Take care of him for me, please."

"Don't you start talking like that-"

"Nik!" She shouts, "I said to go and get out of here!"

He's quiet. Then, she can hear someone else talking in the background and Malcom's shriek as something hits the ship. The Defiance, yes, is meant for galactic battles, but not ones like these. The shields can't be holding up much better than the flagship's are.

"Lexi, you'd better come home." He says, an offhanded beg nearly. And that is it, the thrusters sound in the background and it all goes to a deafening static once they presumably hit hyperspace. Relief washes over her, they've gotten safely away. Anxiety still holds her dear as she stops, trying to breathe. Now it's just her, and whatever the blazes is out here.

"The enemy has breached the engineering deck--they're after the primary generator. I'm on my way now--meet me there." Marr's voice crackles to life, and she acknowledges him somehow. She's thankful, glad that at least Marr was still alive and here with her. Maybe later she does wonder how the Empire would go on without him. Without two of the Dark Council's Elites, she could only imagine how things would crumble. There'd be vying for the seats, surely. It'd be a bloody next few years.

Things get fuzzy from there as she fights through each mob of droids, indiscriminate to how much power she puts behind each one as she comes to her realization. Lightning arcs from her hands, the force is one with her as she stalks her way down the halls of the flagship, lightsaber ignited and slashing a path through everything that even moves to stop her.

Lexulle Kallig knows she isn't isn't going home. She's made an empty promise to the people she loves.

She meets with Marr minutes later. It's a trying fight to the engineering deck, as she tries not to let the man see her cry. Lexulle isn't even entirely sure he has a family, whether he has people that care about him somewhere else in the galaxy.

Now her son is going without a mother, without his biological father. At least she could give him a stable home while she was still with them. Now without her, her small family is surely without the Defiance as soon as they enter Imperial space, without the apartment she provided them with. She's failed them, she's failed Malcom.

With that rage, she tears apart whatever stands in their way to the engineering deck. It seems even Marr is surprised that she's still going, with as many injuries as she's sustained. Thinking this was only a meeting, she'd only been wearing a set of light armor. Her forearms are bleeding profusely, bruises surely growing on her back from where she'd fallen earlier in the day. They make it through the larger droid that was protecting the generator, as she tears it apart with the Force. The creaking would be so undesirable as the durasteel tears underneath the strain, but she doesn't care. Whoever sent them is the reason she won't celebrate her son's fourth birthday with him. They won't mind if she reminds them why she fights.

"The power core is strained to the breaking point. We can recharge the shields, but they still won't last long." She says, after viewing the screens at the holocomputers that blink red in time with the alarms blaring over her. Nothing looks particularly good from where they are, not to mention how bad the ship is falling apart around them. It's a death trap, and if the droids don't kill them, then the ship will.

"The hyperdrive has been completely burnt out." Marr deadpans, adding to the figurative fire. Any hope she had left sinks out of her. She's truly stuck here now. There's no logical way out of here, and exhaustion is prickling at the back of her consciouness. She's fought to the best of her ability, and now for what?

For nothing.

Maybe as a twisted consolation prize, a holo comes to life before them. Captain Fora's bent over form greets them. Her hair is falling out of her delicate hairstyle, a blaster in her hands and peering out from behind whatever. Turning to them, she shouts, "Enemies on the bridge! I repeat, enemies on--"

Just as she appears, it's gone, accompanied by an explosion that even she can hear, all the way away from the bridge. The crew must be entirely gone by now, Fora included. She can only imagine the political backlash this would get, how the war would rage up again around them.

"There are rudimentary backup controls here, but the enemy ships have us surrounded. We have few options left." Marr snaps her out of her thoughts. Sweeping over what she has available at her disposal, she thinks. Time slows, and she's tired. Tired and frustrated and upset and terrified. She already knows she isn't going home, so logically her first thought is to ram the oncoming ships with the flagship. It's what Marr would want her to do, and it's what her first thought is. Yet hope flickers at the back of her consciousness. Abandoning the ship entirely would get them at least out. To where, she doesn't know, but anywhere is better than this flying fireball at this very moment.

"Then we let people have a fighting chance." Lexulle responds, pressing the com button the databank. Announcing herself to whoever's left on the ship, she takes a breath before answering, "Attention! Shields are failing, and the enemy has us surrounded. Evacuate now, while you still can."

Though there's no audible response, she hopes someone heard her. If there's anyone left, that is.

Marr says nothing.

Lexulle doesn't have to wait long. Just as she lifts her head from the holocomputer, she can hear a deafening explosion from further down the ship. The guns from the opposing ships must have finally burned down the shields just as she had given the warning. Turning towards Marr, she nods in acknowledgement, as he does the same. This is the end of the road, the end of the line.

Everything goes dark.

-

**17 ATC. ZAKUUL. 17:00.**

Lexulle wonders if this is what death really feels like. Instead of being all white and fluffy like described in children's story books (she would know, she's been through the Empire's extended list of children's books), it's just darkness, no sound, just her and the universe. Alone with her thoughts, alone in her suffering.

She's reassured that she's very much not dead as she cracks an eye open, biting her bottom lip to keep from screaming. Her entire body hurts, just trying to shift anything shoots pain up every single one of her joints. The lights are low above her, but somehow much too bright as she tries to take in her surroundings. Not Marr's flagship, as she realize she's lying down on a cot of some sort. Maybe she is dead, and she's dreaming.

Forgetting that thought for just a moment, getting out of here is her first thought. Moving her arms is an entirely different story. She has cuffs on them that look rather heavy, but allow her some range of motion. Attempting to remove them with her own lightning proves unfruitful as sparks come from her fingers but don't come to her as easily as they should. All she manages to do is add to the barely visible lightning scars on her fingers, the ends of her hair fluffing up at the touch of electricity running through her system. So then the Force has been dampened within her with these cuffs.

Not dead. Definitely not dead.

Still in more pain than any Dark Council member should be allowed.

Blazes, if she's in Republic custody she's going to have quite a few words with whoever's in charge -- Saresh if she remembers correctly. If the Treaty of Coruscant hadn't been in pieces before, it is now.

That question is answered rather quickly as two figures step out of the shadows, and she pushes herself up into a sitting position. Her eyes dart around, it's much too dark for her to feel around for her lightsaber. For some reason she doubts that it's even in here, as she throws out a feel for it's specific presence. No matter, if they're here to threaten her, she still has her training on her side. No Sith would ever be held down, not by the Republic and not by anyone else.

"You've awakened. I trust you can walk," A deep, gravelly voice states. It's not a question, and surely one he intends for her to answer. Her legs still feel like jelly underneath her, pins and needles eating away at her consciousness as she tries to focus. He clearly isn't Republic, but not Sith either. A single eye that she can see has a crimson tint to it. Corrupted, in one way or another. The other and his lower jaw is covered by a black mask with yellow replacing the other. Scarring is evident, reminiscent of ones that she has seen on Sith. Lexulle holds back a dry chuckle. Whether she's supposed to be scared, is another question entirely.

He's force sensitive though. She can feel his presence as she reaches out, and it is absolutely stifling as she recoils. Powerful in the force, yet his alignment remains unclear.

"Unlock these shackles and I'll show you exactly what I'm capable of." She says, her voice dry. As not to seem weak, she tries not cough though the words sting her throat. Lexulle is guessing he isn't as scared of her as he should be, and she can think of quite a few things she could do to remedy that rather quickly.

"You are in the heart of _our_ Empire, now. I assure you, escape is impossible, even if you could make it past me." The way he stresses our, she wonders where in the blazes she's gotten off to. Another group of cultists, maybe? With everything Revan managed, she could only imagine how many more people wished to follow his example. His gaze leaves her after this thought, "Come along."

She considers refusing, until another figure steps out of the shadows and prods her with a rifle. She tries not to make her struggling evident, trying to stay steady on her feet as pain shoots up her leg like electricity. Stifling a stumble, she follows after both of them. The architecture is nothing like either faction's, dim and with white light. Lexulle has some reason to believe the man may be telling the truth and she really isn't among any friends or past allies. A shiver runs through her body, it's freezing here.

Marr steps out with another of the odd figures, also held in restraints. Some relief is given, knowing that she has an ally here anyways. He's just as tall as the man, if not taller as he steps in front of him. Where others would've quivered in fear, the man simply remains in place, as if this were a daily occurence, "What 'empire' have we entered?" he asks.

"The Eternal Empire. Zakuul." The man responds. Zakuul, then. An Eternal Empire? Remnants of people who believed in the Emperor, if she can make any guesses. But this, this seems much too far advanced to only be three years old. This isn't the work of any startup. He turns away without another word, wordlessly beckoning them to follow him further into the depths. Looking to Marr, before back at him, he stops in his tracks, "You didn't even know whose territory you were invading?"

As if he's surprised. No one in the Core knew anything about Zakuul, about any Eternal Empire. If Intelligence did, that was below her pay grade. Where was he from, really? Yavin maybe? There were always rumors of the oddest Force beings inhabiting the planet, she wouldn't put it past anyone not to notice their existence, "We didn't 'invade' anything. We were looking for someone." There's still a bite in her tone, to remind him of just who he's dealing with. Not any petty pirate, a Sith Lord who very much would like to return to her home. He's disrupted her entire life just by this one act.

She has every right to be pissed.

"In an armed warship?" He asks quizzically. Well, she could see what he meant, but they attacked first. With an entire armada no less. He was very much inaccurate here.

Something clicks in her mind, memories spilling back from surely only hours earlier. This man was the reason she was ripped away from her crew, her son. He was the one who was responsible for this bloody mess. And all he could do were give them orders and ask questions with obvious answers.

Oh if she got her hands on him, he would be begging for mercy, screw his stupid facade of being all powerful and whatnot. He'd surely never seen a mother's rage enacted on someone who deserved it. His scars would extend much further than just what was under his mask when she was done with him.

"We weren't looking for a friend." She deadpans, glancing to Marr. He's as irritated as she is, she can feel it prickling at the edges of his presence, but is better at hiding it. Masks were never her style, and probably never would be, but she can only imagine the grimace on his face.

"What do you hope to achieve by taking us prisoner?" He questions. As angry as she is, Lexulle is curious. How is she alive right now? Had someone come to retrieve her after the ship exploded? Is she dreaming right now, maybe of an omen. She wishes she were still on the Defiance, sleeping with her son next to her.

This can not be real.

"I have questions. You will provide the answers." The man responds sternly, the light reflecting ominously over his mask. She can't figure what answers he would ever need, what answers he could ever want.

"We will tell you _nothing_." Marr's voice airs that of finality. There is no question to be asked, that is the voice that says you are done.

Yet again, the man doesn't flinch where others would turn and run. He simply raises an eyebrow at the statement, as if he were expecting it, "You won't have to speak to give me the answers I need." With that, he turns on his heel and continues onward. Without pause, the armored soldiers behind them prod them to follow after him. Unwilling, yes. But she'd play along for now, if not to keep her life.

They enter of ship of some sort. A transport, she believes. It's a short ride though, as they're under the watch of these two soldiers and the man himself. A feminine voice comes over the com as the ship shudder, attaching itself to another structure, "Prince Arcann. Final docking sequence."

Arcann.

Among all the other things wrong with this, he had the audacity to make himself royalty.

"We recovered the records from your ship's computers. Or what was left of them. Fascinating reading." Arcann states as they walk down a hall. The view out the viewport is unsettling, she's never seen the planet below them before. Silent, gold armored force users stand guard with blue lightsabers in their hands. She isn't entirely following this entire charade yet either -- how did he recover the records? Much less them from a burning fireball that they shot down. Agents crosses her mind, but she's sure she would've noticed anyone odd among the corpses that littered the ship's floor as she ran by, "You Sith are apparently quite formidable. You most of all. To alter the course of galactic events as you have...quite impressive."

He's complimenting her then. Or at least, in a different tone and different circumstance, she would've taken it as one. With all the uncertainties, she takes it as a mild threat, "I sense your connection to the Force. You have great strength...but do you know how to use it?" She questions. For now, being docile seems like it is the key to her survival. Keep him busy, long enough for her to take in her surroundings properly and report back to Intelligence.

If she got back.

"You are not here to educate." He states. He's not amused, nor willing to answer her question. She's pressed a few buttons then. Good, she'll see what makes him snap while she's at it.

The white eyes of another man who storms up to their small party reminds her of those she encountered on Ziost. Though, he's clearly under his own will. Dressed much like Arcann himself, though in a robe that is accented with black and gold, "Prince Arcann." He bows in respect, and she raises an eyebrow. He had everyone under his metaphorical thumb then.

"Heskal. Still waiting for the catastrophe that you and your Scions foretold?" This must be a very old argument, because Arcann sounds oddly frustrated by the man's interruption. Possibly something he'd been bothered about for ages. Who knew.

"You may close your ears to the whispers of fate, my prince, but they can not be silenced." Another cultist then. No one simply spoke that normally about fate and destiny and didn't believe in a higher power that controlled what they did. Had they stumbled upon this Empire that worshipped someone like their Emperor? It wouldn't be impossible, she supposes.

"I wonder if silencing you might suffice. Take your superstitions elsewhere, Heskal. You are not needed here." Arcann deadpans. Good, Lexulle isn't interested in hearing much of the mess that goes on here on the daily anyways. She'd had her fill of that mess on Yavin, and it was far from entertaining. She remains quiet for now, more interested in how he would react should she stay entirely quiet. The questions are still burning the tip of her tongue, her curiousity will surely get the better of her at some point or another.

"Is this why you brought us here? To hear you bicker with soothsayers?" Marr questions, airing her own concern.

"Come along." Is all he says, skirting the question entirely and ignoring the rest of whatever Heskal intended to tell him. How did anyone ever follow him as a leader, as frustrating as he was within the few minutes Lexulle had known him?

"You're taking us to your master." Marr deadpans. Master? What made him think that? The Prince title makes sense once she thinks about it. Of course, the person in charge wouldn't come looking for them. Arcann's master wanted them for something, thought it was unclear now, Lexulle didn't want any part of it. Unless he could send her home, she'd sooner kill the man than listen to anything he had to say to her.

"I'm taking you to my father, Valkorion. The Immortal Emperor of Zakuul." Arcann responds, turning away from Heskal to the pair of Sith. So she was right. He wasn't the head of these operations, most likely not by a long shot. Maybe he could skirt the blame for now, but this _Valkorion_ would be the one to have hell to pay for what had happened to her.

"An Emperor. Just what we were looking for." Marr responds, a glance to her as she flickers her gaze to the armored male. Still, yet to be any form of argumentative. Lexulle is getting antsy, by now any battle would've broken out and here they were, reasoning with a man who would be rather happy to just see them dead. Or had another, unseen purpose for them that she decidedly did not want to stick around for. Yet, if Marr was this quiet on the issue, then she figured she had a good reason to remain that way.

"You will not find what you wanted here." Arcann answers. It seems he isn't looking for a fight either, even if he has no idea what he's talking about. Fine then, she'll stay her tongue. He turns away from them, and continues moving down the hall towards a larger door. Outside, is unfamiliar. She hasn't ever seen a planet like this, with skyscrapers outside of the atmosphere. Or at least, she assumes they're skyscrapers. The architecture just around them has an air of regality to it, the force sensitives next to them wear armor she's never seen before, lightsaber models that seem normal to them but a completely new idea to her.

Zakuul, then.

The door opens once they reach it, and it takes all her willpower not to gawk at her new surroundings. It's wide open, a dome over them that's accented with gold. Underneath her feet, darker, but also gold. It's odd, to say the least, that this was hiding out in Wild Space. Why no one had been able to find it before is anyone's guess -- surely not her's. More of the force sensitives line the path way, lightsabers still lit with an ominous blue all the way up to a throne.

A throne.

If only she knew how many times she'd see this one in her future, oh she would've averted her eyes instead of staring in hidden awe. One man sat upon it, aged, tired. Donning the same white-styled tunic that Arcann had, his son if looks were anything to go upon, he was in a position of thinking as the two were herded in by the two soldiers behind then. Once they grow close enough, Arcann lowers himself to a knee and the man leans back on his throne. She sets her face in a dead glare, whatever proposition he has for them, she does't want to hear it.

Malcom's young face flashes through her mind again. His quiet shrieks as the Defiance hit hyperspace and she couldn't hear anything from her ship anymore. She hopes Nik isn't out here, about to do something stupid to bring her back. It would've been in character, but if he died trying to save her, blast it she'd never forgive the damn pirate for being so stupidly heroic at the best of times.

"His Glorious Majesty, Immortal Master and Protector of Zakuul: Emperor Valkorion." Arcann's voice bellows in introduction, as she rivets her gaze upwards. A man with that many titles, she didn't even want to begin to understand how he'd gone about getting everyone under him to regard him in such a way.

"Welcome." He says, his tone much too soft to be any sort of welcome. A tingling fills her, trying to get a read on him as she reaches out in the Force. It only takes a moment, but the presence is all the same. The man who sits before them is no one other than the Emperor. It's odd, a different look, yes, but why go through the trouble of possessing someone out in Wild Space -- Zakuul if you would? But, Valkorion doesn't look possessed, his deep red eyes are his own, his actions his own. Even his voice is different than that of Vitiate's.

"A new name, a new face...these are not enough to hide from us." Marr makes the connection before she does, stating their findings before she can even get a single word out.

"The Sith Emperor...your presence is unmistakable." She keeps her tone dark, stern, though chooses her words carefully. At such a point with her Force powers dampened, it would be unwise to begin a fight with the Emperor himself.

Even if she did want to stab him through and shock him for what he'd done -- not just to her but to the entire Imperial populace. To Ziost.

"Oh, I think a mistake has been made...but by whom?" He asks, though surely he already knows the answer. If one more person gave her another open-ended question again, that would bring up her body count a couple more people. The soldiers around her, she's sure she could take in a heartbeat.

"Do these people have any idea who you really are? The kinds of things you're capable of?" Lexulle asks. Her frustration only grows, as many times as she's cursed the Emperor in the past for the things he's done, here he was, in front of her and so tantilizingly out of reach for her to do _anything_ , "Do they know what you've done to the galaxy in your path to domination?"

"Do you?" Valkorion quizzes her, a laugh underneath his words. He's taunting her then, he knows what she's asking. Though she's curious, these people who are so oddly quiet, they've just accepted the things that have happened outside their little bubble of Zakuul?

Or do they simply not know of what their Emperor is truly capable of, what sins he's committed against the entirely galaxy? Ignorance was bliss, yes, but only when your ruler wasn't a dictator with a penchant for death.

"Your constant silence across our history...this was your distraction?" Marr asks, disbelief in his voice. She considers it for a moment, Valkorion -- Vitiate may have been here on this Zakuul. It made sense, considering he'd been little more than what most dubbed an absentee landlord. If he'd been overseeing things here...

"This was my focus," He admits, "Everything else...the means to an end."

He seems almost in thought, his voice softer than it had been. Arcann moves out of their view, maybe to allow Valkorion to acknowledge them properly. No wonder their Empire was slowly falling apart from the inside out. He hadn't been anywhere near the Core in years because he was instead cultivating their Eternal Empire.

Then why Ziost? Why move so far back into the galaxy, if only to destroy a planet that held little to no value, military or otherwise?

"You claim to have come all this way to find me. Here I am. What do you want?" He asks, very matter-of-fact as he stands from his throne. She considers, there are plenty of things she wants to blame him for, but it isn't time to play games. She throws out the bait, and wonders if he'll take it.

"To destroy you, once and for all." She responds, changing her stance as he begins his descent down the stairs, "You've done nothing but destroy everything you touch. Why bother even creating our Empire if you intended to watch it fall from your throne, Vitiate?" She wants him gone from her life, all the Emperor -- Vitiate has done is cause trouble. To get rid of him entirely, finish him off for good...that's a good wish to have, isn't it?

He chuckles darkly, brushing off her question, "You say you know me -- if that is true, then you know the depths of my power. Whatever you hoped to achieve here, you know -- deep inside -- that you cannot succeed." He responds. He's trying to break her down, break her spirit by denying her.

Well, he has another thing coming. Any slave has an unbreakable will. And a mother's will when her child is threatened on top of that, he may as well be hoping to destroy the entire Citadel bare handed.

That, that was impossible.

"But you do not have to stand against me. Instead...you can kneel." He states. Not a request, but instead one with a fire behind it. He snaps off Marr's cuffs with a wave of his hands, as they fall to the ground with a heavy metallic sound against the floor.

There's no pause for thought before Marr acts, "I will never again kneel to you."

Arcann turns to wordlessly ask his father a question, surely whether he was allowed to attack Marr. She steadies herself, ready to fight if she has to, cuffs or otherwise. Valkorion waves a hand to stop him, and she pauses. This was an odd development, "You would rather die than acknowledge my superiority?"

"It is you who fears death, 'Valkorion'. I do not. I will not kneel." He turns, using the Force to push a soldier backwards over the edge. The lightsaber drops from his hands, and he summons it to his own. The other gold plated soldiers rush him, shields raised before Marr throws his newly acquired weapon directly back at them, knocking the small party backwards. Another soldier goes flying off the side as static builds in Lexulle's hands again. Stronger this time as she pulls at the Force, the dark side to give her strength. Still, not big enough to do anything significant.

It ends.

Valkorion shoots a massive arc of lightning back at Marr, and Lexulle's eyes widen in fear. She bites back a yell as he flies backwards, electricity surely racing throws his veins at a dangerous speed. Electricity is still coming off him in waves as she raises her head from his corpse to the woman who's entered the room, dressed in black and gold as her allies are.

Marr doesn't even twitch.

He's dead. Darth Marr is really dead right before her eyes, killed by the man -- the entity that he swore to destroy.

Her glare returns, before the woman speaks up, "Clear the room! Everyone out!"

The soldiers follow her orders dilligently, quickly leaving in rapid succession. She instead turns back to Valkorion, stepping closer. She's not a threat, not in her cuffs and held back without the Force. But if he believes that he's brought her down a peg by killing someone she trusted, that she'll roll over and take the punches, he's got another thing coming.

"Why send your new followers away? Something you don't want them to hear?" She asks him sarcastically, though fully intending to receive an actual answer. What was it that the couldn't hear that he so desperately needed her to?

"They are not like us." She shudders, she was not an 'us' to Valkorion of all people, but continues to listen either way, "In all my centuries, you alone have merited my full attention. You leave your mark upon the galaxy wherever you act, just as I do.

"Look around you. Zakuul is poised to become the greatest civilization in the history of the galaxy. I have forged this empire to surmount all of my previous works. To span eternity." He's a little hopeful on that on, especially if he intends for Zakuul to take over the rest of the galaxy. Him destroying Marr's flagship, didn't bode well for her belief in him, "The Eternal Throne commands a fleet more vast than any ever built. It has the power to reshape the galaxy into any image that I choose. That _we_ choose."

Beyond her immediate distaste at the idea of working with him (which is nauseating, really), out of the corner of her eye, she can see Arcann's expression change for only a moment. Dissent within the ranks, especially seeing her as an outsider to their little perfect kingdom, "I will share all of this with you...if only you will kneel."

"'Share'? You don't share anything...you enslave. You devour. I will never be a part of that." Her eyes narrow as she grimaces. Static jumps at her fingers as her rage rises within her, "You destroy the things your Empire holds dear, and then expect us to still respect you. I am not one of your pawns, Vitiate, and I never will be."

"So be it." He responds, not an ounce of disappointment in his voice. He moves, holding up a hand to his son. He strides forward, and Lexulle tries to calm her beating heart. So this is how it ended, to an insolent child with a lightsaber. Fitting, really. The title had been applied to her plenty of times before. She tries not to show him she's scared, fixing her posture and still pulling at the force to override the cuffs, lightning playing with the tips of her braids. This was how she fell, and no one would know. She was alone, Marr's corpse just behind her.

The Empire would surely fall if this was who was after it.

Malcom would surely never see his teenage years if this was the case. Lexulle isn't arrogant enough to think that the Empire would simply bounce back from this. She wasn't stupid enough to think that the fallout wouldn't affect everyone she knew and cares about.

Arcann lights his saber, the kyber crystal gold.

He takes his stance in front of her. She quivers, he doesn't acknowledge it. She steels her eyes on him, entirely prepared to be stabbed through, choked, pushed off the edge with the Force. If death wanted her, then so be it.

His vision darts from her to his father, before back to her, "You came here to defeat him -- this is your chance!"

Instead of attacking her, he slices away her cuffs. They fall away, leaving some scratches, yet he turns on his father instead. A tad bit still in awe, she stealths herself anyways. She'd wait for an opening, for her lightsaber is still nowhere to be found. Yet the Force has returned, and her head feels clearer, her senses sharper. Her electricity dances at her fingertips with practiced ease, and she circles the father-son pair with a wide berth.

"First your brother, now your father?" Valkorion asks, though still remaining calm and throwing out defenses with practiced ease. Arcann is strong, she can see that, but he's so angry he's simply throwing his lightsaber around with little concern for whether he's actually doing any damage.

"Does my ambition truly surprise you?" Arcann questions, his voice grizzly. Another few hits, all deflected as they move closer to the base of the stairs.

"You do not have ambition. Only jealousy." Valkorion rebutts. Another old argument then. He seems bored with his son's antics, as if he's dimly aware that there's an assassination attempt before him.

Arcann is strong-willed, she'll grant him that. He doesn't seem to care, maybe thinking he can simply tire him out, maybe that if he continues attacking he can just get him while he's distracted.

Maybe he'd never fought a galactic superpower before, but that wasn't typically how these things went.

Another arc of lightning shot from Valkorion's fingertips, this time towards his own son. Arcann flies backwards, skidding to the ground without even a sound of pain coming from him. He's motionless, still sparking from the attack, "I know you're there. I suggest you come out, unless you wish to find yourself with the same fate my son did."

She pulls for Arcann's now discarded lightsaber with the Force, once in her hands she manages to spin so that she's right behind him and shoves the plasma blade through his chest, "You should've killed me when you had the chance." She says darkly, hearing his expression of surprise in the breath of air he manages within that moment.

Yanking it right back out of him, he remains standing though with a hand over the saber hole. Satisfyingly, nearly.

"So be it." He responds, maybe accepting his fate. Yet, he begins to glow with a purple aura, spiraling around him. Lexulle isn't immediately sure what to do, air whipping around her as it pulls into him. Backing up further towards where they'd just come from, she can hear a low chuckle over the wind.

It's silent. She thinks she may have beat him, finally.

Instead, an explosion knocks her prone. Her ears ringing, her mouth tasting of blood as she hears something crack. Her heart is pounding, and her whole body is throbbing with pain. Through cotton-filled ears, she can hear someone coming and Arcann speaking, "The Outlander has assassinated our Emperor. Take her away."

Someone yanks her up, and she doesn't even have the power to scream before she blacks out from the pain. Her eyelids flutter for just a moment, lights invading her senses before she loses consciousness.

Now it wasn't just Theron who would never see her again.

The rest of the galaxy wouldn't either.

Her last, conscious thought for five years is the safety of her son. All she can do is pray that he survives the onslaught that is surely headed for the rest of the galaxy.

She loves him, so, so much.

She prays that he knows this.


	2. Act I.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andronikos finds himself the sole guardian of a grieving son.

**17 ATC. THE DEFIANCE. 15:00**

It's quiet.

As soon as they hit hyperspace, Andronikos can't do much more than just sit back, the tension flowing out of him as his shoulders lower. Staring out into the blue abyss that's before them, nothing matters. His hands drop from the controls, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb. Maybe if it hurts worse than it already does, he'll wake up from this blasted dream. 

Or this nightmare, with how things were going in the last hour or so. Either way, he desperately wanted out of it.

Lexulle had come back from worse. Much worse than just some attack on a cruiser. Ghosts tried to take her physical form when she was barely an apprentice, tried to tear her apart from the inside out. Her own master had tried to kill her before that, a hundred-something year old woman trying to kill someone who was just barely out of their teenage years. Still, she was able to move past that and triumph over those that couldn't find it in them to believe in her, if not with nightmares that cropped up every couple of months. Or at least, as far as he was concerned they were every couple of months.

Still, Lexulle never just _died_. She was too strong to be bound to a grave that early in her life. He refused to believe that whatever the hell was out there had taken their Darth Occlus -- his _Lexi_. 

She wasn't his, not really, but it didn't change the fact that he cared about her, and that she cared for him just as much. He swore no matter what happened he'd be there for her, and against his better judgement, he'd just left her for the mercy of whatever ship had just appeared out of the bowels of the galaxy. One hell of a protector he was. He should've stayed, he would've stayed if she hadn't pleaded with him to leave with her crew in that blasted desperate voice that could've gotten him to do anything.

He wants to believe she'll be back, on some Imperial shuttle in a few hours, meeting up with them at a little halfway planet. Maybe a little worse for wear, but alive. Jokingly answering questions and just being _her_. Being the Lexi he knows, ready for an outing with Malcom or a photo shoot the very next day, just as beautiful as she always is with as many scars and bruises as she'd managed on this mission alone. He doesn't want to accept that reality might have more in store than just that. Doesn't even want to think about how she might be floating around in space with Marr, no hope of ever going home.

The shell-shocked expressions of the rest of the crew behind him are quiet, at least. No questions are asked, and no one moves. No one says anything, not even a simple Jedi line out of Ashara. Even the kid is quiet, though Andronikos had still hear him sleepily whimpering. _No one knows what to do._ With the exception of the time that Lexi had been literally fighting a war for her own body, she was always there to give them direction or the next thing to do. Years ago he would've balked at being under the leadership of someone other than himself, now that's all he can ask for. Wanting Lexulle at the head of the ship instead of an empty space that his brain keeps filling with her. 

There also happened to be no protocol, Imperial or otherwise, for when your Captain went missing in a fight against some unknown force. Not one he could wrack his brain and remember, at the very least.

"We're two days out to Dromound Kaas," He finally breaks the silence, keying in the coordinates for the Imperial homeworld and rising from his seat once they've been accepted, "I suggest you all pack your things you might need for a day trip, soon as we hit airspace without Lexulle they'll kick us from the ship once they find out. Probably start an investigation soon as we're in the spaceport."

"But she's coming back, Andronikos. They wouldn't retake the _Defiance_ without confirming that she's really gone," Ashara responds firmly, voice cracking as she smooths out the dark curls of the boy who sits in her lap. She lifts those big blue eyes to him, near pleading without words and he's glad he doesn't crack right there and then in front of her, "Would they?"

He doesn't have all the answers. But hoping they let them keep an Imperial interceptor ship (seven years old but the Empire did like their hardware) without the Sith it's essentially tied to is false hope. He thinks that if they simply don't report she's missing until she gets back, they could have the _Defiance_ to themselves for a couple days. Lexulle would have his head for so openly breaking a law, but it's the first solution that comes to mind. They'd just ignore whoever was hailing her as long as it took.

He doesn't want to leave. Other than the military, this the only place he's been longer than a few weeks at best. He's actually happy here, things are stable enough that he can say he actually lives her instead of it just being a layover to his next 'home'. But he'd never say that to anyone else, not in the presence of anyone else. The question hangs in the air, unanswered and unwilling to be touched.

"Under a few jurisdictions, we'd be evicted within the week if Lexulle didn't return." Talos answers for him. Of course he would know, he probably had Imperial Law as a bedtime story as a kid, "Not that I don't have any belief in Darth Occlus' ability to do the impossible, but Andronikos is correct. We may have to spend a few days in the apartment while she gets everything back as it should be."

"And if she doesn't come back? What laws come into play then?" He asks, steeling his voice against breaking. It's a fair question, not one he wants in practice but now is the best time to familiarize himself with the law of the land. He can hear Ashara want to say something else, but Talos beats her to it.

"Chances are, we'll be permanently evicted. The _Defiance_ doesn't legally belong to us, and though Xalek and Ashara are Sith, neither of them have completed their trials yet. Khem Val is a Dashade, the Sith will be looking for him. Andronikos has minimal ties to the Empire and will most likely be ignored for the most part, but surely I'd be put back with the Reclamation Service." Talos answers, a frown on his face, standing from his seat in a gentle parade rest. He can't meet anyone's eyes, even as Andronikos turns to him to ask another question. That's unusual enough in itself.

"We live here though! We have for six _years_ , they shouldn't be able to just take it from us!" Ashara says, not even lowering her voice anymore. She's frustrated, understandably. There's a glint of gold in her eyes, which terrifies him to no end. He'd only seen Ashara angry a few times since he'd known the Knight, and had seen what she was capable of. Malcom wakes, but she doesn't notice, "They can't make us leave, they can't! Even if she is really gone..."

 _"Sith will be back."_ Is all Khem grunts out rather matter-of-fact before leaving the bridge, Xalek on his heels. The Dashade doesn't leave any room for discussion at all, leaving those in the cockpit in silence. He should probably check in on the Kaleesh at some point before they leave the _Defiance_. Considering how highly he thought of Lexulle, even going as far as to refer to her as mother even though she was both shorter than him and not even a decade separated them, Andronikos could predict he was probably on just as short a fuse as the rest of them were. If not more, and that was a terrifying thought by itself.

But she wasn't dead. That was an idea he wouldn't even begin to entertain as bleak as things got. They drop out of hyperspace just back into the civilized galaxy within a couple of hours, and only he, Ashara and Malcom stay on the bridge. He wakes up a few times, his green eyes wet with tears and his dark hair mussed by hours of sleep. Eventually, Ashara asks to take the controls so that Andronikos can put Malcom down for a bit. He's reluctant to, it's only her second or third time piloting the ship without him in the immediate vicinity, but he knows she's right. She needs her own time alone, after being under Lexulle for so many years and the way their relationship was as Master and Apprentice, he can't imagine she's doing much better than Xalek. Gently, he manages to slip the toddler out of the Togruta's arms and gives her detailed instructions to get them on course to the next planet. She doesn't respond with words, but he knows she understands. He ends up laying down in the crew quarters with the kid for a while, Malcom bumbles in and out of restless sleep for a bit before being out cold for another few hours.

He doesn't give himself even a minute to process what was going on. Maybe that wasn't right, but if he stopped moving for even a moment, started considering the actual fallout from this mission at all, that usually lead to regrets and alcohol, and that wasn't what the crew needed right now. He was Captain again, and he had to keep things together for as long as they needed to be.

Wordlessly, the crew goes about their daily tasks, along with cleaning and packing what essentials they needed over the next few days. It was kind of spooky watching as the _Defiance_ was cleared out of most things, making it seem as if no one lived there full time. The crew quarters, which weren't really junky before was stripped clean of things that made it the _Defiance's_ crew's quarters. No weapons or clothes were to be found. It was like being thrown back in time to when he'd first joined the crew after Tatooine, still curious how he'd make his mark on the galaxy after everything with the Republic and his piracy days being firmly behind him as long as he worked for a Sith. A Sith he was at the time, hellbent on showing her a good time and loosening her up (in the end, he was the one who was shown a few new things) but came to respect after some time. Slowly but surely the crew had grown into a family around Lexulle and her march across the galaxy. Where he'd once been annoyed by the Force trinkets and knick knacks that Talos, Ashara and Xalek often collected that littered the corners of the room, his heart aches to see them ominously glowing a last time in the dim red light of the quarters. All the nights they'd spent up and awake much longer than they should've, the days they'd spent in medbay patching each other up and all the memories they'd made together are fading fast, just as quick as packs can be made and crates are filled. It's as if it's all disappearing right before his eyes, all the years being erased.

But it's not permanent. That's what keeps him grounded, knowing that he is coming back. This isn't for forever. A couple of days at most, so while he takes his guns with him, the bed sheets stay. The larger, non essential things stay where they are, packed away in the cargo bay for later. For safe keeping, as Talos reassures him. They're locked behind a pass code, in case Imperial officials get any ideas. He tries not to brush the smaller man off too much, he's only trying to help to the best of his ability. Everyone was, everyone was only trying to make the conversion easier. Andronikos just needed to figure out how to cultivate that into something more productive and healthier for the crew.

Even if he didn't entirely know how to.

That included Malcom. Stars, he knew how to watch the kid, where to find him when he went running off, when to feed him and when he was getting up to things he had no business being in, but he didn't know how to deal with the three year old's emotions shortly after Marr's ship and the subsequent battle. Lexulle's son always had that frown on his face that broke him in two, her previous lightsaber hilt always in his hands. Some parts he'd lost, so it was far from functional, but it provided some comfort to the boy. He liked to run his hands over it, hell liked to sleep with the thing like a metal plushie and even though Ashara had managed to take it from him, afraid he'd scratch his delicate cheeks, he'd managed it back within the hour. It was a part of him, just as much as his mother was. There were always tears that someone wiped away, but Andronikos was beginning to believe there wasn't any end to the hiccups and cries for his mother. He takes refuge with Ashara at first, before he comes toddling to him begging for Andronikos to bring his mother back. It's not healthy for him, but he let's the boy cry late into the night, falling asleep just before midnight in Imperial space on his chest while Andronikos sits up piloting the _Defiance_. He wishes for nothing more than to soothe him with his mother back, just as all of them do. Andronikos, sadly, isn't a miracle worker though. Only the stars know if Malcom is right, if Ashara...if anyone is right with their misplaced hope.

He doesn't get a lot of sleep those few days either. He can't. In essence, he won't.

So he doesn't.

Malcom isn't his son, he's far from it. But, he's not Theron's either. He grits his teeth at this thought, partially upset with the SIS agent for being such a fleeting idea of perfection for her and partially frustrated with himself for hanging on to this for so long. He's always been there for her and for him, but Lexi had always said she wasn't willing to commit long term to anyone but her son. Specifically because of all the unknowns. 

Sometimes he wishes he was included in that exception, but she didn't ever say things like that lightly. She would've told him if that's what she wanted, and she was the boss. Especially after his own botched admission to wanting to be with her, he figures it's time to drop the subject. They were friends, maybe in that grey area, but he was firmly no longer on her mind. He doesn't know why he misses her in that way, he doesn't know why he can't just move on from her.

The only solace he gains from these petty thoughts he tries not to bury beneath alcohol and late sabaac nights with the crew is that Theron is not one of the people she wants to be with either. As long as her frustrated rants still meant the same thing three years later, he was the furthest thing from her mind. The way he should be, really. Maybe he didn't do anything outside of actually impregnating her, but Andronikos couldn't help being upset with him. Malcom would probably spend years never knowing his actual father, maybe his entire life if Lexulle kept it from him that long. Maybe because she grew up knowing both her parents, and then having them ripped away from her at such a young age didn't do her any good. Not knowing instead of yearning for him would do the kid some good. Less emotional impact as well.

Once the other rooms are done and packed up, Andronikos takes it upon himself to clear out the last one the day before they hit Imperial airspace -- Lexulle's personal quarters. He'd done that on purpose, not bothering with the room full of memories until the very last second that he could and reliably still have everything packed up.

He'd been a staple here for a few years, almost a sort of home to him. Given it was under the cover of relative darkness most of the time, but he still remembered it like the back of his hand. Yet, it was only short two years until he'd popped the question late one night, off a battle high after Voss. Then, he'd had to leave as not to make a bad situation worse. He hopes he still remembers where she kept everything as he slowly takes the room in.

He flickers the dim light on, and while there are a few of Malcom's toys littering the floor, it remains the same as he'd remembered it. The same deep purple comforter, same dresser, same weird Sith paintings on her wall. Gathering a couple of the toys and stashing them away in a box that seemed to hold the rest of them, he doesn't bother bringing them. The kid had sixty million other ones in the apartment, he wouldn't miss three or four or...twenty apparently. The room is clean, though her doublesaber is missing from where it was usually stored on her nightstand. Her holocom is gone from it's charging port, but her datapad remains with the matching stylus poised to write again laying across the screen.

He grabs that as well, though extremely careful not to drop it with his shaking hands. She wrote and drew and surely gave her life blood to the thing. It probably knew more about her than any physical being did. When she got back, she'd be looking for it. For a moment, he considers trying to figure out how to get into it, but breaches of privacy he rarely entangled with. And with her fate so up in the air, not a single word for the last day and a half, he doesn't need his curiosity sated by this. If he really cared about her, he wouldn't.

So he doesn't. He slips it into a pack without another thought. If she wanted to, one day she'd tell him herself.

Once the rest of the room has been straightened and accordingly packed away, he moves over to her dresser. A tad dusty, but otherwise clear. A few other force knick knacks decorate it, as well as something he thinks is a datacron pulsing red at him. He decides firmly against touching that. If she needed it, it would be here for her when she got back to do whatever Sith did with odd boxes of fate. A couple parts glint in the darkness, surely Lexulle had found the pieces that were gone from her old saber over the years and collected them.

His attention moves to the glinting box on the opposite side of the dresser. Her jewelry is in an ornate black box that he'd bought for her after their excursion to Alderaan (put him out of a hundred credits but all that had mattered then was how her eyes lit up at the gift). It was nothing special, and with the way they weren't mutually exclusive, he'd thought she would've let it gather dust somewhere with all the other gifts that people had bought her over the years, hoping to earn her permanent affection. Yet, as he grows closer, it's nearly pristine and still in the same condition as when he'd bought it. He's genuinely surprised, but it puts a sad sort of smile on his face.

It feels too personal to go rummaging around in her things, like something he hasn't earned the right to do, but he can't help himself to click open the silver latch, quietly as if she might walk in at any time. What greets him isn't immediately identifiable as per se, things a very influential Sith Lord would wear. There's her typical ruby necklace she wore, shaped like a kyber crystal and hanging off a delicate golden chain. She owns many in varying colors, but the red one had always been her favorite. Unlike the others, this one had been the last thing her father had given her before he'd died at the hands of some Jedi. At least, as far as he knew.

He wonders why she didn't wear it today, or technically two days ago. There's an assortment of other surely expensive pieces, all in red or gold or both. A few he can pick out, putting the jewelry with the suitor that had presented it to her. One he remembers rather clearly, a Zabrak who'd brought her an entire ring set while they were packing up to leave Rishi. He'd thought she discarded it, with everything with Theron going down that she wouldn't care for them. Then again, Lexulle was very much a fashionable Sith, if she was going to just throw away such a collection in the name of one man, then he'd probably be extremely concerned.

As he goes about the rest of his day, he finds all he can think about is the SIS agent. Not with contempt (well, with contempt), but with curiosity. He'd thought Theron was the one that would tie her down, albeit very loosely, but at least keep her grounded. Her flights of fantasy and infidelity, while hilarious in retrospect, were surely taking it's toll on her. She'd never had someone to call her's, hadn't even called him her boyfriend or lover at any point in time. It had become rather exhausting after so many years for him, hence why things didn't last with Casey. He'd warned her not to get involved with something she couldn't finish, something that she couldn't see to the end. A Republic spy no less, and she was on the Dark Council, had been for nearly a year at that point. He'd known that things with Theron wouldn't end well, known that she was just going to end up unsatisfied. But she didn't care and continued on with the little fling. He'd caught her with the man plenty of times on Yavin that she didn't know about, and the flirts didn't go over his head as well as Lexulle had probably hoped while he stood nearby. No wonder they were an entire six hours late for their flight back to Vaiken to refuel and restock before they hit Dromound Kaas again. He filled in the blanks as he waited near the _Defiance,_ chatting up a few Imperial soldiers before he and the Republic were the last ones left. Andronikos didn't have anywhere to be during this entire Revan mess, nor did Ashara, but she had been on the orbital station during all this.

It was the middle of the night when she came back, dark hair mussed clothes hastily donned, and half of them in her hands. He didn't ask any questions, didn't say anything as she sat in the passenger's seat in the _Defiance_ , knees brought up to her chest and staring out into the starry abyss. There weren't any tears, there wasn't any angry sobbing or even a breakdown where she told him exactly what happened. All there was...was just quiet. As if pieces had been broken off of her deliberately, as if she wasn't her in that very moment. What Theron had done, what he'd said was a mystery to him for months. All he knew was that the next time he ever saw the agent he'd hurt him for hurting his Lexi.

He tried not to bring him up again. And for a while, it seemed like Lexi was willing to put the entire idea of him behind her, subsequently burning it with a metaphorical match. She was herself for a while, less prone to visiting every cantina she came across, but more her than she had been in what felt like months. 

And then that proceeded to immediately end when she'd come to him in the middle of the night later that month, shaking in her nightclothes like a leaf, crying into his arms that she was pregnant. He, hadn't been intending to ever deal with any emotional breakdowns on this partnership, but all he could do was hold her. He didn't know what else to do, and to say he felt powerless in that moment would've been the biggest understatement of the millennia. They weren't prepared for a _baby_. Not in the slightest. There were so many questions he wanted to ask, so many things he wanted to yell in the void about, but...well there wasn't much else he could do. There wasn't anything he could do to turn back the clock, to keep her from meeting Theron in the first place (as much as he wanted to). He couldn't blame this on her, couldn't put this on anyone. As much as he wanted to find someone to be angry at, there was no one.

He could try blaming fate for once, but that wasn't helping anyone.

She was stubborn enough that staying on the _Defiance_ was her one wish, even though she had a perfectly good apartment -- hell even one of the best ones in the city back home, she wasn't interested. Putting her life at risk was apparently not about to be deterred by the fact she would be due only a few months from then. Absentmindedly, he wonders if it simply runs in her family. Not that he'd met anyone in her family except for that blasted ghost she kept telling him about. It wasn't even like she could fight later down the line, though she was determined to continue honing her lightsaber abilities. Blazes he'd wanted to stop her then and there, but then Ziost had happened.

He desperately wanted Ziost to never have happened, especially so early on. The false hope that it gave her, that twinkle in her eyes that he hadn't seen in nearly a whole month. He doesn't know why she didn't tell him then and there, why she let him stay in the dark about his own child. Considering what little he already knew about the mysterious and apparently alluring Theron Shan, it was just something he didn't expect from her in the slightest. It seemed odd, unlike her even. Still, the massacre that went down those few days, he could understand why bringing that up would've only lead to trouble. More than they were already in, at least. Lexulle didn't like people worrying about her, didn't want people thinking they knew better for her own life. It had gotten him shoved off plenty of times beforehand, and with the way Lana was already overly concerned about sending her out to begin with, adding Theron to that would've set her off.

The look of emptiness in her eyes put a hole in him as they watched the planet die just before them in the viewport. She'd let him hold her for a few minutes, though the lethargic way she leaned against him made him realize that none of this was right. Much as she didn't want to say it, this kid was an accident, plain and simple. One she hadn't planned for, or was even ready for. Lexulle hadn't been ready to be a mother.

They left in silence, him and Khem flanking her. She didn't say a word to anyone for the longest time. Seeing the regret in her eyes, the hurt, it was unbearable. A few times he'd been able to talk to her, get any sort of conversation from her. Only when they were relatively alone, of course, but he learned more about her then than he'd been able to in the years past. She wasn't young, twenty eight at that point. But up until then she'd only really been looking out for herself, had to only look out for herself, and was just warming up to the idea of looking after them at the same time.

Someone she couldn't leave, or at least one that she didn't want to, must've thrown her for a loop.

He lingers, looking over the room. He considers picking something else, maybe to pacify the kid for a few more hours until they can land. Her hospital bracelet and Malcom's matching one remain in the jewelry box, but he decides firmly against that. Lexulle would kill him for losing one or the other. Well, anything from that day could've killed him if she didn't have the restraint. A few bones were surely still out of place, his fingers had hurt for days after Malcom was born.

Look at him, reminiscing like an old man. Looking for any purchase in this mess they've made.

"Andronikos?" Ashara's voice sounds from outside the door alongside a knock. He slides his pack over his shoulder as her knocks become more incessant. He gives a lingering glance to the box, before delicately shutting it and heading towards the door.

"Yeah, what do you need?" He asks once he opens it, and she shifts Malcom on her hip. Blazes, those big green eyes had no business being on this kid, so full of innocence and hurt, "I was just finishing up in here."

"There's something you need to see," Is all she says, lowering her gaze to the ground, to the interior of her room, to Malcom, but anyone else but him, "Some place called Zakuul has...well Imperial security has already locked the transmission down but Talos managed to grab it before they took it off the Sith frequency."

"Zakuul?" The word sounds weird on it's own, unfamiliar, but if they had anything on Lexi, then he's willing to listen, "What do they have to say?"

She gestures with her head to Malcom, "For his sake, I think you should watch it without him."

That sends a chill down his spine. That was something the crew only ever said if it concerned Lexi having to leave for something or the other, or something that Lexi didn't want him hearing. At nearly three, Malcom had gotten rather good at understanding messages and stringing them together in his own thoughts. No conversation was safe from him any longer. And that meant that nothing in this message was considered good. From a weird planet, or person or group of people, he has his reservations. Considering his Sith, even more.

The Togruta leaves, heading back towards the crew quarters to surely find a way to distract Malcom from the rest of the crew, who's standing around a slightly glitching holoterminal. Talos is fumbling with something in the panel, Xalek with his arms crossed and a sour expression behind his mask. Khem, is very loudly doing something in the cargo bay. He prays silently it's not because of what he'd just witnessed, "Talos. You found something?"

"The Imperial Citadel picked this up while we were in hyperspace a few hours ago, surely Ashara told you who sent it?" He questions, running a hand through his unkempt hair. This is the most distressed he's ever seen the man, his blonde hair all over his head and not even wearing his Reclamation Service uniform. He's slept, maybe more than Andronikos has, but he's been restless. He surely had let the stress get to him, not even stopping for a moment. Tinkering away in the cargo bay, always working on something. To take his mind off of things, in a less destructive way than some other members of the crew. He and Andronikos hadn't been all that different, in that regard.

"Some 'Zakuul'?" He fills in, watching as the holo-image flickers to life. A man appears, completely grainy and indiscernable nearly, but scarred and with a mask over his face. Then, he fizzes out again, "They managed to pick this up?"

"Recovered from the ship's long range sensors when they sent in recovery teams about two days ago from Ilum, off some odd channel that the destroyer managed to pick up. It's not extremely clear, but piecing together the message is...concerning," Talos says offhandedly, clicking over a couple more buttons.

"Recovery teams? You mean they might have found her?" Andronikos asks, ignoring the last statement. He tries not to get his hopes up, but it's impossible not to. At some point in between when they'd left and now, that meant the Empire had managed to get people back out here to the ship. And if they had recovery teams, there was a chance they might've found Marr and Lexi.

Dead or alive, but he'd burn that bridge when he got to it.

_"...Valkorion, is dead -- murdered by an Outlander who...great society." The transmission continues to fizzle out, but he's piecing together the story. Zakuul was some planet out in the far reaches of space, probably the thing that she and Marr had run into, "....assassin will receive swift and just punishment....act of unprovoked aggression..."_

"What's he going on about?" He asks Talos in a moment of silence, "Who's Valkorion?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, Revel," He answer solemnly, messing with another few dials and buttons, "We're not even supposed to have this, no one outside the Council is."

"So they know Lexulle is gone?" He drags a hand down his face, a groan escaping him. Great, now there was no way out of this, "I thought we would've had more time."

"The eviction transmission came in this morning. I considered deleting it entirely but..." There's so many cogs twisting and turning in his head that Andronikos can nearly see it, as he thinks up any solution for this problem they've found themselves in. No more Defiance for a while then.

"We're about to hit Kaasian space. Yeah." He says, as the transmission returns.

_"...Emperor, I can promise you this...full power of the Eternal Throne...they will answer for their warmongering ways,"_

"So he's got an Emperor complex, great," Andronikos rolls his eyes. They'd had enough problems with the blasted Emperor for one lifetime. Talos seconds his opinion with a quiet response, though Andronikos can't make out what he says, "Where is this Zakuul anyways?"

"Speculation is that they're further out in Wild Space, hence the attack on Darth Marr's ship and all of the unknowns about them," Talos responds, "I believe administration was trying to keep this further under wraps, but their communications still arrived here at the ship. I believe they only discovered these a few hours ago, and then sent it to Council members."

Andronikos doesn't answer. The way it continues with the static, he's beginning to think that was all they'd managed to get from the holo. It doesn't confirm that either of the Sith are alive or dead, but he's considering taking this as a declaration of war from this 'Zakuul'. The way that he says 'Emperor' and just how long it had been since the last Emperor had gone astray, he's figuring it might be a cult on the rise. Revan's wasn't any fun to deal with, and he thinks this is one is even less. Might be more powerful but at it's core -- he still doesn't want to deal with it at all, "That it?"

"That's as far as we got last time," Talos responds, clicking a few more buttons with a little bit more force than truly necessary, "It's extremely spotty, if I can barely get this much out of it I'm sure the Imperials are doing just as well. I'm not sure what Intelligence or the Sith intend to do with it just yet. With such little information on Zakuul at the moment--"

_"And the Core Worlds will burn."_

Talos jumps back, as the audio grows nearly unbearably loud with the grizzly voice. The only clear thing out of the entire transmission, and it had to be the most ominous as well. It winks off a moment later, though the words are already etched into his memory. With such certainty as well, and then ships they'd seen earlier being way more high tech than anyone should really ever be having...he's maybe edging onto the idea that this wasn't just a cult. Making a jump from just being after the Empire to the entire Core Worlds, to say the least it didn't make him feel any better.

Another transmission comes through fifteen minutes later just as Dromound Kaas comes into view, this time everyone surrounding the holo with anticipation in their eyes as the sight of an Imperial officer appears in blue. He holds Malcom to the best of his ability, held together by sheer will and less sleep than was truly appropriate. Though everything is fuzzy with sleep deprivation, the words ring clear.

_"Darth Lexulle Kallig has been confirmed missing in action alongside Darth Marr of the Dark Council. The current occupants of Kallig's Imperial Interceptor, code name the Defiance, have forty-eight hours to vacate the ship...."_

He has a little too much satisfaction shutting off the man's drawl, and turns to address the rest of the crew before Malcom starts, "What does vacate mean? And where's mummy an' Marr?"

He hesitates. At first he can't find the words. Malcom isn't as old as the others, he'll take whatever he says extremely literally, "Vacate means we gotta go, kid. As for Lex...just means they don't where she is yet. But they're looking, which is all that matters."

He seems to accept that answer, mulling it over and making sense of it. Andronikos turns to the rest of the crew, "You heard the man. Get your things and get ready to leave."

-

He's attended a few funerals in the past, usually out in the middle of nowhere for friends that lost their lives in ship accidents. They were pretty far and few in between, but the idea that a bunk would be empty for the forseeable future always hurt a bit. Never dwelled on it long, especially after the first few times he'd had to leave a crew, but names were the hardest. Calling for someone who wasn't there anymore. 

The darkest one was when he lost one of his squad members after a battle gone wrong before he'd defected from the Republic. He didn't remember much from that point, had drank himself silly first, but it was enough to put him off ever making a big fuss about anyone in his life again.

People died. That was just what happened. Galaxy wasn't the safest place for any sentient being, and you signed that contract when you joined a crew or did much of anything. Life wasn't handing out easy lives to people either. Became shoot or get shot very quick.

He could barely handle this. Sith mingling around and acting like they owned the place. He wasn't a fan of Dromound Kaas, but had only come on Lexulle's request. Somehow she'd made it less stuffy, less elitist than the times he'd been here without her.

Now it feels like he's being choked, or some gundark is using him as a footrest. He's not going to cry in front of anyone, much less cry at all. It's unbearable though, his chest tight as he runs a finger over the plaque with her name in script. Her assumed birth date and the same day they'd had to leave her is just below it.

They'd given Lexulle and Marr a memorial. A service of some sort. Marr had gotten one in the military district, surely to pay homage to his service to them. Apparently that's what he'd done, and he'd been good at it for as long as he was alive. He had to give it to the man, he'd done nothing but be a leader, and Lexulle had looked up to him, trusted him too. Safe to say the man had earned his respect a long time ago.

Lexulle's wasn't as populated, though was in the cultural district. People had surrounded it with flowers of all types, though the more popular color was a deep purple. Jungle plant, one he'd seen while wandering around with her. For as much as she did with ghosts and stuff, not to mention the fact she'd killed another Darth for their seat, he would've figured the Sith would've put her somewhere less desirable. Yet, it was a proud memorial with a statue going up in a few months. Nothing as large as the one in the Colossus, not even one as big as Marr's, but with the plan sent to Ashara, he'd like to think she'd be proud of it. Even the cult from Nar Shaddaa had sent both Rylee and Destris to put offerings around it, and not a single coin went missing as far as he was concerned. People respected her, less because she was Sith and more because of who she was, more than he'd thought with the way she spoke of the Empire. Maybe because she was less 'stab first ask questions later' than he'd thought.

Malcom had made it so that he would bring her flowers everyday with the money Lexulle had left for him. His mother had left him a hefty sum of money, labelled with detailed instructions for someone who would be with him after she was gone. He and Ashara had gone over it plenty of time, nearly eliciting tears from him. She knew she wouldn't be around forever, and from the sound of it she would've accepted it wholeheartedly. Andronikos couldn't find a reason to decline the boy's request. It was the only way he knew how to handle it all, how to cope with everything. No three year old should've had to suffer the way he was, but he did his best to take it in stride. It was too much to ask for him to stop crying at the funeral, they had all shed plenty of tears that day.

He felt so hopeless walking into the apartment, Malcom sleep and stuffy-nosed from crying most of the day. Much as he didn't want to say it, he was going to be looking up to all of them to help him, introduce him to the world. He couldn't help it if Malcom saw him as a father figure, and would probably have to take it no matter what.

He couldn't help but wonder if like Kallig, she'd come back as a ghost. Given, no one except for Khem, Ashara and Xalek were force sensitive, but it didn't seem that impossible. She'd come back for her son in the afterlife, he's sure. Not by his standards, at least. Maybe that was just a copout so that he'd feel better,but still wanted to hope she wasn't really gone. That all of this was just a really bad dream he'd wake up from in a couple hours.

Ashara didn't bother sticking around that week. First she went back to the Sanctum, clearing out Lexulle's things and taking on what she could. He barely saw the Togruta those first couple of days as she buried herself in Sith affairs. Xalek followed her, but he couldn't see the Kaleesh actually handling any amount of paper work. Not to say he couldn't, but that he most likely wouldn't be amused by the thought. Talos was all too happy to stay locked away in his personal quarters or wherever the Reclamation Service met during the day, though he often returned for meals. Khem didn't have anywhere to truly go, so he acts as a protector of sorts. Not nearly as talkative as he once was, but Andronikos is glad he's here. He's less likely to be jumping at shadows with the Dashade lingering around every corner.

The apartment grows more and more desolate by every passing day. Ashara rarely visits anymore, Xalek is learning under someone else now. Talos...Talos chose to be anywhere other than the apartment. It's just him and Khem, and more often than not, just him. Only him to watch the rain fall, to try and get Malcom to eat anything. To even teach Malcom. Though he is Lexulle's son, it's more difficult to try and get him into an academy without the Force backing him. He's told to watch for the signs of budding force sensitivity, levitating objects without knowing it, breaking things without explanation. Andronikos doesn't understand any of that mess, so he takes it upon himself to get Ashara to find him some holonovels on Sith and whatnot.

Malcom isn't interested in learning about Sith anymore. Where most boys were (apparently) interested in the military, Malcom wanted to be part of the Sith Guard as soon as he heard about it from his mother. Now, all he wants to do is find a way to fix Lexulle's lightsaber and then find her. No dreams of schooling, of the Guard, of anything else. Just Lexulle.

There's only so much he can do to keep Malcom from asking questions he can't answer. As much as they visit the memorial and Malcom talks circles with the plaque, after a few months he isn't satisfied anymore with just bringing flowers. Andronikos tries to comfort him, but the three year old is beginning to gain a sense of dissatisfaction. Real anger even, and he finds himself blaming the Empire, Zakuul, even the Republic at one point for taking his mother from him. Andronikos knows how to deal with adults, can say to take leave and deal with themselves before coming back aboard. But Malcom is nearly four, and he desperately needs someone to be there for him as he figures himself out. He throws fits here and there, confused why the stars would take his mom and why no one else wanted her back but him. He struggles to try and explain that everyone else was under the impression she'd been killed by Zakuul, but Malcom doesn't want that for an answer.

Had he been any older, he was sure the boy would go stomping up to Intelligence headquarters himself and get answers that way. The kid was stubborn, just like his mother, and wouldn't take any old run around for an answer. Admirable, yes, but terrifying in practice. He's beginning to think it's a good thing he isn't force sensitive, or he and Khem would have their hands much fuller than they did already.

He finds a little cargo ship off Hutta sometime before Malcom's birthday. It's not top of the line by any means, but Andronikos isn't about to complain about it. Enough to hold him, Khem and Malcom comfortably enough. He knows somehow that he isn't sticking around Dromound Kaas much longer, doesn't plan on being tied to a single planet. Fixes it up to at least be able to fly the galaxy, give the kid a taste of the worlds beyond the Sith home. Maybe he'd find an interest in culture, like his mother did. Anything to get his mind off the memorial being his home. Anything to keep him from growing up in someone's shadow.

They celebrate his dim fourth birthday days before Zakuul attacks the Core Worlds. He'd managed a cake from a bakery nearby, had even bought a blaster he could have when he was old enough not to shoot his foot off. Dipped into his own savings for the newest model from Czerka, bright red and rapid fire. He'd been grateful, as grateful as any kid could be for something he couldn't use yet. Figured by the time he was ten, Andronikos would take the kid out somewhere in the jungle and steady his aim. Sarcastically, he reminds himself these are really things his father should've been doing with him, as much as Lexulle talked about his blasters and how well he used them. He hadn't heard much about Theron, probably because he did work in SIS, but he's beginning to see his traits in Malcom, his eyes becoming more hazel as the years wear on, his hair and just in his face as the baby fat begins to recede. A few shades lighter than Lexulle, but it's clear enough to him who's son he is.

He's just finishing repairs on the ship he comes to name the _Sky Prince_ , a nod to his last ship and the boy who's opinions are only getting firmer by the day, when it's said ships are appearing in the atmosphere. Andronikos doesn't stick around to figure out what the hell is going on. It's nearly too late to get out of the system, but within the day he's got their meager supplies packed up and ready to leave Dromound Kaas. He heads for the Outer Rim first, correctly he guesses they're after the main worlds first. They drift for a long time, the news only growing more and more grim as the war with Zakuul wears on.

Rishi is their home for a few months. He celebrates Malcom's fifth birthday in the company of pirates, unfortunately. For that alone, he unloads a blaster and shows the kid how to aim and shoot, in case someone decides to take him as easy pickings. The kid is still missing a lot of knowledge that Andronikos wasn't able to teach him, but he knows his numbers, most Basic, some Huttese and a few phrases in ancient Sith. Knows enough to get to a market and back. For as much as this was sprung on him, Andronikos doesn't think he's done half bad. He's more talkative than he once was, though still oddly clingy to him. The parenting holonovels he'd been recommended by the Academy are worn from front to back, and he still can't fully understand everything about kids. Novel assumes it's because he lost his mother so early on and is trying to find an emotional replacement of sorts.

The Empire and Republic fall quick to Zakuul. He doesn't know all the little military details and doesn't bother himself with getting tangled up in them again. He isn't ready to stress about that again. Other than the occasional wild animal tearing up the small house, he, Malcom and Khem manage to fall into a routine. Andronikos still keeps an eye out for any budding force sensitivity, but he doesn't bother trying to force Malcom one way or another. Once he's tall enough, he keeps the double saber on his belt with a makeshift holder. He doesn't know what the kid intends to do with it, but if it made him happy, he couldn't stop him.

Six years old is met with Zakuul tightening it's grip on the galaxy. Suddenly, Andronikos finds himself having to use old contacts and the black market for supplies again. Both Dromound Kaas and Coruscant have essentially been blockaded, so trade routes are closing down. Getting anything done becomes difficult, and there are a lot of days that Andronikos has to go hungry in order to get Malcom anything. As much as the kid tries to get him to have half of anything he's found, Andronikos can't find the willpower to. Star Fortresses go up in that same year, above Voss, Belsavis, Nar Shaddaa, Alderaan, Hoth and Tatooine. What they did, well, Bothawui very quickly answered that question. He wasn't a fan of most of the planets on that list, but he did curse for Nar Shaddaa. That planet was the key to getting much of anywhere in the galaxy, and most of the black market dried up because of it.

Seven years old is when he gets a haircut. Seven years old is the unluckiest year Andronikos has, Malcom going missing at nearly every turn. He uses a blaster for the first time, and while his aim needed to improve substantially to be much of a threat, he manages to get a buff pirate off his back. After that, Malcom isn't so brave anymore, rarely going out by himself and mostly slicing himself into a coma. Andronikos doesn't know where he picked up the skill at, but he's managed them a fair amount of money from that alone, and it keeps him out of trouble metaphorically. Credits have finally dried up, and he isn't willing to dip into Lexulle's fund just yet. They move back into the _Sky Prince_ , and they fly under the radar for a couple months. It isn't pretty, but it's manageable for the time. Khem absentmindedly makes a request to stop somewhere with Force users, as if the small populace on Rishi wasn't enough for him. He tries not to argue with the Dashade, entirely aware of what he could do if Andronikos makes him angry enough.

Eight is when Malcom decides that he doesn't want to be there anymore. Eight is the darkest year for Malcom, almost five years after he lost his mother. He's angry at the world, angry at the whole galaxy. He's growing up, and with everything he's seen, everything he's lost, Andronikos understands. He lost his meager family, he's under the impression his real father didn't want him, and he's still grieving over the loss of his mother. Ashara's left, Xalek is gone somewhere, and the last transmission he got from Talos was a year ago. Malcom has still never referred to him directly, but the emphasis on _real_ father gets him thinking a bit. It makes him think that maybe he does see him as a father figure. Given Andronikos doesn't want to have that conversation yet (there's a lot Andronikos doesn't want to talk about yet), but he can't hide everything from Malcom for much longer. He asks one day if he knows his father, and why he couldn't have been here for him.

That puts a hole in his heart. He wishes he could answer that, but he abides by Lexulle's last wish. If she didn't want him knowing, didn't want him on a wild goose chase, he could live with that. Malcom doesn't resent him for his lie, only making the note that he feels like he can only trust Andronikos.

That hurts. Not him, but for the fact he feels that alone that he says he's the last person in the galaxy he can trust.

He's almost nine when there's a stir about Zakuul, about the so-called Outlander being pulled out of carbonite. A week before he turns nine, he gets wind of a new Alliance being built somewhere out in the Unknown Regions. Most informants don't know much more, and he's not about to go to Acina for answers. He and Malcom don't do much for his ninth birthday, but he has his suspicions about the Outlander. The first time Andronikos hears him mention he thinks it might be Lexulle, he tries to let him down easy. He gives up for a bit, but he's stubborn enough to say it again, louder the next time as they go about their supply runs. As much as Andronikos wants to support him in that thought, he can't find any hope left to do so.

For the most times in his life, he has so many 'I don't know's to answer to him. He's clueless on this new Alliance, and Malcom is aging into someone else. Hateful, no, but he wants revenge. He's a spacer, knows the ins and outs of the black market and gets in and out of places Andronikos really doesn't want him in to begin with. But he's happier than he has been in years (maybe that's too strong of a word, the kid's never particularly happy), delving into the holonet and learning to slice and repair things. His focus isn't Lexulle anymore, it's on surviving and improving himself.

Andronikos has done it before, but when Malcom comes back with a new find for the first time, holocom lit with more zeroes than he's seen in years, he finds himself ruffling his hair and saying 'I'm proud of you'. It's not the first time, but even he can feel how much paternal love there is behind it. His hazel eyes widen, and hugs him. A toothy grin on his face as he promises more soon, he smiles himself.

He goes by Malcom Revel for a few years. Kallig wouldn't get them anywhere, is his reasoning for no longer officially using his mother's surname.

He's done an okay job. He just hopes Lexulle is proud of who her son has become. Bitterly, he wonders if Theron would be too. Where he'd be interested in getting criticism from Lexulle, he wouldn't want a word out of the SIS agent.

It's exactly twenty three ATC, late that evening when he and Malcom start their first raid on an Eternal Throne ship. A few other pirates have helped to assemble a crew, and Malcom leads them through it all, sitting upside down in the cockpit on the ceiling with zero gravity on. With how successful it is, he's beginning to think the kid might have a future in Intelligence.

He's proud as hell of him.

**23 ATC. UNKNOWN REGIONS. 22:00.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's about a year in between Lexulle + Marr's assumed death and the first attack of Zakuul, then there's five years to the first appearance of the Alliance.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the longest fic I've ever written, and honestly? It turned out pretty okay for jumping around timelines a lot. Not that it's done, because we're just getting started.
> 
> I've also had this damned story in my head for the last couple of months. So here it is in all of it's 16k glory, a brainchild of me deciding there hasn't been enough angst on this website lately.


End file.
